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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812857">Red Strings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_match/pseuds/miss_match'>miss_match</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Afterlife, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author is a Wilbur Soot Apologist, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dead Wilbur Soot, Gen, It is complicated, L'Manberg | L'Manburg on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Limbo, Mentioned Alexis | Quackity, Mentioned Cara | CaptainPuffy, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Jack Manifold, Mentioned Niki | Nihachu, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Mild Language, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Parent Sam | Awesamdude, Phil Watson is Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit's Parent, Protective Sam | Awesamdude, Protective Wilbur Soot, Purgatory, READY TO THROW HANDS, Resurrection, Sad Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Sad and Happy, Therapist Cara | CaptainPuffy, Tommy in afterlife, Villain Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent, Wilbur Soot is Not A Villain, Wilbur Soot is Not Okay, Wilbur Soot-centric, and resurrected and also sad, as always, awesamdad, but now I am, dead as hell, didn't start this fic as a wilbur soot apologist, he dead, not for long at least, not really - Freeform, ressurection, sam and puffy are great, so it's COMPLICATED, there's some language, they are dead and sad, well now I am, wilbur is vilbur but not.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:55:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_match/pseuds/miss_match</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn’t real.</p>
<p>It couldn’t be.</p>
<p>“Hey, Wilby.” A hoarse voice whispered behind him.</p>
<p>	Wilbur shot to his feet, jerking around to find Tommy with a shellshocked expression on his face. Wilbur recognized the terror swimming in Tommy’s eyes, he still didn’t completely register what had happened. </p>
<p>	But he had died.</p>
<p>	Tommy was dead.</p>
<p>	And Wilbur felt everything inside him shatter as his brother choked out a dry sob.</p>
<p>	“I lost.” He breathed, “I lost for good this time.”</p>
<p>         OR</p>
<p>         After Dream kills Tommy, Tommy and Wilbur meet in the afterlife. But even in death, Tommy cannot escape the red strings wrapped around his throat.</p>
<p>          Dream resurrects Tommy and accidentally drags Wilbur back with him. Wilbur’s pissed and plans on getting revenge on everyone that hurt Tommy.</p>
<p>           Now not just a one shot!</p>
<p>          NOT CANON COMPLIANT!!! canon won't give me a happy(ish) Wilbur and Tommy reunion, so I wrote it myself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Floris | Fundy &amp; Wilbur Soot, Sam | Awesamdude &amp; TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Completed stories I've read</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> When Tommy’s last breath slowly escaped his body, Wilbur felt knives spike through his body. He knew what he was seeing was real, he knew the blood trailing down Tommy’s chin, the maniacal look in Dream’s eyes, the pained expression on Sam’s face, he knew it was all real.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But it didn’t feel that way.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He didn’t know where he was exactly, despite all his time to think, he had never truly figured it out. He knew it wasn’t heaven or hell; he didn’t feel a peaceful calm or scalding pain. The boring nothingness of the world made him assume it was purgatory or limbo. But he didn’t really know.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He just knew it was just numb.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He was forced to think about what he had done. All of the bad things, all of the good. Forced to look back on the faces of those he had once loved, the ones who had once loved him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But the times where he was allowed to feel something for these people, the times where he could remember the warmth that spread through his chest, or the blinding anger that haunted him, were so very limited.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He wasn’t allowed emotions. He assumed it had been an effect of wherever he was stuck. Eternity. Forced to objectively reminisce until he admitted his faults or some bullshit. But all he could do was think.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Reflect on his past, all the twisted faces, all of the explosions, all of the breaking inside of him, without absorbing the emotions that he knew had overtaken him before.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hated it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hated the numbness, hated how he was never able to <em>feel</em> anything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The only times he ever felt any true emotion was when he watched the world. But those emotions were never good. Mostly anger, pain, sadness, probably not anything this purgatory wanted to fester in his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Yet after every event, every exile, every loss, every victory, he resorted back to numbness. The same fucking nothingness that filled every (non)living day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But as he watched his little brother’s body hit the floor, the numbness of limbo was gone. And not just for a moment, he could feel the cloud of muffled haziness drop away, replaced by a pain he had never felt before. It flooded his veins, pierced his brain, and made his eyes burn with anger.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He prayed for the numbness again, wished for nothing more than the cool feeling to overtake him once again, anything for this to not be real. Anything for this be some sort of cruel joke.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A scream ripped from his throat, piercing the air around him as the life drained from Tommy’s eyes. Anguish ripped at his stomach, as fury flooded his veins. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He fell to the ground, the soft, indiscernible land beneath him breaking his fall. He gripped his head in his hands, praying he could force out the memory. Praying to wake up, praying for some demon to come out and welcome him to hell.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> This wasn’t real. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It couldn’t be.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Hey, Wilby.” A hoarse voice whispered behind him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur shot to his feet, jerking around to find Tommy with a shellshocked expression on his face. Wilbur recognized the terror swimming in Tommy’s eyes, he still didn’t completely register what had happened. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But he had died.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy was dead.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And Wilbur felt everything inside him shatter as his brother choked out a dry sob.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I lost.” He breathed, “I lost for good this time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh, Tommy,” Wilbur cried, running to wrap his brother in a hug. Tommy stilled at first, and Wilbur realized with a jolt that his contact might not be wanted. Tommy would probably hate him for everything he did to him, and he had a total right to. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He moved to pull away, but Tommy yanked Wilbur close to him, clawing his fingers around Wilbur’s jacket’s collar as he refused to pull away. He burrowed his head into Wilbur’s chest, Wilbur clutching the top of his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy sank to the ground, and Wilbur followed, refusing to loosen his grip on his brother.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Hoarse sobs wracked Tommy’s frail body as tears streamed down his face. Wilbur felt his whole body shatter, anger pulsing through his blood. This wasn’t fair! How was this the ending he got?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy was the hero. He was supposed to be the one to get a happy ending. He was the one who deserved to survive. But Dream had taken that from him. Dream had stolen his little brother from the world, robbed it of the one person who would risk his life to save it every damn time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He felt anger flood his vision, anger he hadn’t felt since he was alive. It was the anger that rattled your mind, made your vision flood with red. But unlike when he was alive, he didn't want to use it to destroy, to make others feel his pain. He just wanted to make sure this never happened to Tommy again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I’m so—so sorry.” Tommy muttered into Wilbur’s shoulder, “I’m so sorry.” The anger flooded away from him, replaced by a hollow sadness. Something cracked inside him at Tommy’s exhaustion. Even in death Tommy wasn’t allowed to rest. He still had to fight, fight the insecurity and sadness that had been pummeled inside of him. It wasn’t fair. It had never been fair.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No, no, no.” Wilbur soothed, stroking Tommy’s hair, “You did nothing wrong. You were perfect, Tommy. You were so good, so fucking good. I’m the one that should be sorry.” <em>They should be sorry too. Sorry for everything they did to you.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy said nothing to that, instead allowing himself to sink further into Wilbur’s chest. Wilbur gripped him, closing his eyes as the sounds of Tommy’s sobs echoed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The sobs lessened as Tommy’s energy disappeared. The fear seemed to slowly drain out of his body as his mind acclimated to what had happened. HE’s so strong, it taken Wilbur much longer to get used to what had happened.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Not that Schlatt had helped.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He showed up sometimes, so did <em>Mexican Dream</em>, but they had their own afterlives, their own purposes to fulfill.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He supposed that in the afterlife he should’ve been mad at Schlatt. But all he had felt was numbness, and in that numbness there lied forgiveness. Cold, worthless forgiveness. But forgiveness nonetheless. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur hoped beyond anything that Tommy didn’t felt the same numbness he had when he’d arrived. He also knew Tommy had survived a nothingness in exile, an unfeeling, yet pain filled daze much worse than here.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I never got to say goodbye.” Tommy choked, finally loosening his grip on Wilbur. Wilbur kept his arms around his little brother, but moved back slightly so that they could look at each other. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy’s eyes were no longer the clear blue skies that had always glittered so brightly, they were now dull. Grey. <em>Numb</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Just like exile</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I know, Tommy.” Wilbur whispered, “I know.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy gasped for air as the sadness returned.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I just left them. I left them all.” Tommy whispered his eyes darkening slightly, “Do you think they even care? Do any of them?” <em>Was Dream right?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur felt his heart shatter, “Of course they care, Toms, of course they care. Do you want to see them?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy looked up at Wilbur, fear evident in his eyes. Wilbur’s calming smile faded, replaced by a frown. Tommy truly didn’t think they would care; he was scared of looking upon their faces and seeing nothing but joy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I—I,” Tommy took a deep breath, “Yeah. I think I do.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur smiled to himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hadn’t worked up the courage to look back at the world for what felt like eternities. Tommy was braver than he’d ever be.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The world shifted, revealing windows back into their world. They shimmered in the air, appearing at what Wilbur used to think was random.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Nothing in this world was random.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They watched as the maniacal glint faded from Dream’s eyes. Watched as he plastered a smile onto his face, and ignored the sobs wracking his body. They watched as he shoved himself into a corner, pulling at his hair with his hands.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy wanted to watch more, but Wilbur didn’t. Dream didn’t get to care. He didn’t deserve to feel pain. He had no right of sympathy, no right to feel bad about anything he did. If Wilbur ever came back, he would slit his throat and watch as the blood drowned out any pain he might feel.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They then saw Sam. Wilbur allowed Tommy to watch him longer. He looked so sad, so broken.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>I’m so sorry, son. I’m so sorry.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tears streamed down Tommy’s cheeks, but a small laugh bubbled out of him. He was heartbroken for the man he had grown to see as his father, but Sam had loved him. He had genuinely, wholeheartedly, loved him. He had loved him the way Tommy loved him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy’s face immediately sunk as he realized he had laughed, ashamed of what he had thought. Tommy had loved Sam so much, grown to trust the man that had been there. How could he betray him by being relieved he was genuinely sad?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur whispered soothingly as he rubbed his back, “It’s okay, Toms, he loved you. You loved him too. It’s okay to be relieved that it wasn’t a lie. It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy relaxed slightly at the words, feeling the waves of sadness crash into him as he watched Sam shatter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Sobs wracked Tommy’s body again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Still, every time Wilbur asked him if he wanted to look at someone else, Tommy refused.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I never told him.” Tommy whispered, “I thanked him, but I never told him that I cared. I found adoption papers in his house the day I went to the prison. I was hoping that I could put Dream and Techno and Phil and everyone behind me so that I—we could move on.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur’s heart clenched in his chest. He knew Sam was planning to adopt Tommy, he would’ve been thrilled. It was Tommy’s one true chance at a happy ending. It had still hurt slightly, knowing that he could never be there for Tommy again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It seemed pointless in hindsight.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He truly wished that Sam had gotten the chance to call him his son. He deserved it far more than the other man Tommy had once been unfortunate enough to call his father.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur watched this one a bit closer. Sam would join them eventually, and when he did, Wilbur would thank him. And if he was ever dragged back into their hell of a world, he would thank him there too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tubbo was next.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They didn’t watch that one long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He was in denial. Wilbur knew he was in denial.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> That didn’t make it hurt any less when Tommy shrieked, caving in on himself as his best friend, the man he had given up everything for time and time again, shrugged off his death. Ignored it. As if it was simply an announcement of the weather.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy caved in on himself, breaths shuddering as memories flashed through his eyes. Wilbur held him throughout all of it, clutching the boy to his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He didn’t say anything. Despite his skill with words, he knew there was nothing that could heal the pain of Tubbo’s reaction. Nothing Tommy would believe at least.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They immediately switched to Ranboo, Wilbur was wary of this one. He could feel the jealousy crashing inside of Tommy as Tubbo grabbed Ranboo’s hand. Tommy used to be the one to do that. He used to be the one who had Tubbo’s friendship despite everything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur thought watching this would only bring him pain.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But Ranboo mourned. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He planted flowers around Tommy’s dirt house, a monument to the boy who had helped the land grow since the beginning. He watched Tommy as his breath leveled, a small smile fixing on his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Ranboo cared. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And Tommy hadn't known. But he did now. Wilbur watched as Tommy relaxed, a small, melancholy, smile spreading onto his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Next they saw Puffy, and the sobs infiltrated Tommy’s body again. He’d wanted to say goodbye to her so badly. She had offered to help him, to be the shoulder he could cry on, and the arm he could use to steady himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He’d pushed her away at first, too scared to attach himself to anyone other than Sam (who he’d only out with for purely business purposes, of course),but she had always been there. And eventually he had allowed himself to warm up to the sheep-hybrid.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Now he was gone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And she was left to pick up the pieces.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He watched as she reflected, interrupted the <em>celebration.</em> Tommy’s face had gone stone cold when he realized that people were celebrating his death, but he hadn’t commented. It hurt, but not as much as it should have.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur figured some part of Tommy knew that they weren’t in there right minds, and Wilbur’s reassuring words certainly had helped.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He watched as Puffy went to Logstedshire, cried as she mourned for him as well. She lamented over her failures, and Wilbur wanted to tell her not to worry. Yes, she had failed. They had all failed Tommy, however she had failed slightly less than most.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> For that Wilbur was grateful.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Time worked differently wherever they were.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Sometimes it felt like he had been here for an eternity, whereas some days it felt as if it had only been a few minutes. Some days in the real world passed by in minutes, whereas some dragged on for what felt like months.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> That meant that while not in this moment, somewhere in time Phil and Techno were finding out about Tommy’s death. And purgatory had opened a gateway to a familiar cabin.Wilbur moved to focus in on them, but Tommy stopped him, frantically shaking his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Please.” He begged, voice quivering, “I don’t—I don’t think I want to see that one.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Bravery only stretched so far.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Still, wherever the were allowed Tommy to ignore the gateway, ignore the emotions his biological family was experiencing. Wilbur had no such luxury. In hindsight, the numbness might have been a blessing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Anger ripped through him like a bullet, and he knew that Techno had vowed revenge. Sadness punctured his brain and knew that Phil had fallen to the ground, mourning the loss of his youngest son.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He was so broken over the fact that he’d now lost two of his sons.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur had no sympathy for him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He still had the one that had always mattered most.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He looked over at Tommy, nervously twiddling his hands. Wilbur recognized that part of him wanted to know how Techno and Phil would react, but he also knew that Tommy was terrified of whatever their reaction would be.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It was almost easier to just pretend they had never cared about him in the first place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Their reaction might give Tommy some form of closure, but it would reopen old wounds that had been sloppily closed up, sewn together with rusty tools. Tommy would learn about their reaction in due time, but Wilbur wouldn’t force it on him yet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It didn’t matter to him if they cared about Tommy, they had both abandoned him. Yes, Tommy might have hurt them, but that wasn’t supposed to matter. They were supposed to be a family. A family isn’t supposed to team up with their youngest child’s abuser—now <em>three time </em>murder—to blow up a country.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He showed Tommy Jack Manifold’s reaction. He was saddened, not celebrating the loss of a villain as he supposed he would, but mourning the loss of someone he should have considered a friend, Tommy chuckled slightly, sadness brimming on each laugh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I knew you’d miss me, you bitch.” He murmured.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy had always been smarter than he let on.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Not that Jack Manifold was known for his subtlety.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Quackity’s sobs shook Tommy’s bones. But Tommy knew the duck-hybrid would be fine. He always was. He would build himself back up, most likely stronger than before. He would carry out his legacy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The window faded, and Wilbur hesitantly pulled Tommy up from the ground. He protested every motion, but Wilbur helped him stand nonetheless. Tommy should get used to the weight of himself, everything was slightly different here.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He wanted to say something, something that would make all the pain in Tommy’s life disappear. But the words wouldn't come. However, it seemed as if the world around him seemed to have plans of its own.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur could feel Tommy’s mind pulsing with unspoken questions, but he truthfully didn’t have many answers for them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur would search out a few more reactions in due time. Curiosity plagued his mind. Would Sapnap cry for the child he had slowly grown to care about? Would Fundy mourn for the uncle who had always shown like the sun? Would <em>Niki</em> celebrate?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He didn’t want to think about her. One of his oldest friends working to kill a child he thought she had loved as much as he had.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He wondered if the feelings crashing into him now had been what Tommy dealt with in Pogtopia. Watching someone you care about slowly lose themselves, until they become simply a shell of who they were.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He watched as Tommy grasped out at the shimmering doorways, slowly fading away. He reached out a hand towards the fading figure of Sam, as if he could will him to stay.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But they faded. They always faded.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He assumed they would be left in nothingness together. He was okay with that. He wouldn’t be numb anymore, Tommy made everyone feel something. He always had.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But the nothingness stilled around them, and the indiscernible landscape of limbo shifted and turned in front of them, spouting structures and ruins from its hidden depths. Tommy hesitantly reached a hand forward as cascading colors piled on top of each other, and land split open from the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Then it stopped.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And Wilbur suddenly recognized everything and nothing about the world around him. Th</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He looked at the walls that had grown in front of him, the opening betraying some of the wonders behind them. He had belonged in purgatory, forced to question everything for the rest of time. But Tommy didn’t.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> His afterlife was different. Through the walls of L’manburg he could see a few peaks of what laid inside. There was bench overlooking a sunset, a hotel that soared into the sky, a trailer that smelled faintly of potions, and if he squinted, he could see a wooden cabin situated in the middle of an icy corner. He assumed that all they had to do what step inside, and they would see the stuff of Tommy’s dreams.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Every good memory Tommy had stored in his mind had created the landscape in front of them. Wilbur looked down to find himself dressed in his old L’manburg uniform, buttons shining under the morning sun, it still fit like a glove. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> That’s why he was here. He didn’t deserve closure or happiness or gratification, but Tommy did. Tommy deserved to have everything he loved for the rest of time, and even though he didn’t feel he was worth it, Wilbur was one of those things.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The world in front of them was a creation of Tommy’s happiest memories, everything he loved. Wilbur shook his head, a small bitter chuckle brimming from his throat. Tommy had made it to whatever heaven was, and he had brought Wilbur along for the ride.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> All they had to do was walk through the walls, and they would be out of the nothingness. Tommy would finally get to be at peace.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He looked towards Tommy, expecting to find some inkling of happiness on the boy’s face, but he was met with nothing but fear. He was holding his hands to his chest, as if he was hiding something. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur immediately knelt down next to Tommy, concern lacing his features.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Toms?” Wilbur questioned, “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A few fearful chuckles escaped Tommy’s mouth as he brought out his wrists. Bright red string hung from the wrists. Wilbur’s eyes followed the strings to a crack that had split the nothingness behind them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The opening was behind them, an inescapable gateway that the strings were dragging Tommy towards. They were situated in the nothingness, with the allure of Tommy’s L’manburg beaming in front of them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Hell behind them, heaven in front of them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They never did tell you that hell was just the world you had managed to escape.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur watched as the strings tied Tommy back, dragging him back to a world that didn’t deserve him. They choked his neck, encased his arms, bright red strings of a puppet master, closing on one of his favorite toys.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The doors to L’manburg shone brightly in front of Tommy, an opening to a better world. One without pain, one without sacrifice, ironically one without death. And yet, Tommy couldn’t reach them, he could never reach them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Toms!” Wilbur cried as Tommy was slowly dragged back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy looked back at him, a pained expression on his face, “I—I don’t—I don’t.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Angry tears streamed down Wilbur’s face, “I know! I know! Just hold on!!“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He ripped at the strings, tearing at them with more strength than he had ever shown. But for every string he tore away, another one appeared.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It was hopeless.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy was being dragged back to life.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Fuck.” Wilbur muttered, reaching out to Tommy. The red strings were pulling him away, towards an opening that had split the nothingness. He was forced to gaze at peace while he was dragged back into chaos.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Wil—“ Tommy muttered, helplessness evident in his voice. Wilbur shattered inside. Tommy had earned peace, he deserved to finally be happy, even if that happiness was found in death. And yet, they would never let him find it. They would force him to come back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “NO!” Wilbur cried, latching onto his brother, “I won’t let them take you, Tommy! Not again, not ever. I will never leave you again!!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Watery chuckles escaped Tommy’s lips, “I have to go back.” His eyes hardened, and Wilbur was reminded once again just how much stronger his brother was than him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He needed to do everything he could to protect a world beyond saving.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He needed closure.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He needed to be the hero he was born to be.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> So he had to go back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Not that the strings wrapped around him gave him much choice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No.” Wilbur muttered, shaking his head. He knew how this ended, he wouldn’t let them take Tommy again. He would only end up back here, more broken than before. There were some cracks that couldn’t be healed, not even by a perfect definition of happiness.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He didn't want that for Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I have to.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur looked up at him, determination filling his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Not alone.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What? Wilbur, what are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I’ve reflected on my mistakes long enough.” Wilbur chuckled darkly, sparks dancing in his eyes, “I think it’s about time I help others do the same.” He threw a loving glance at Tommy, “And I’m not leaving you again.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy smiled slightly as the strings jerked him through the opening, Wilbur clutched onto his brother. He was not leaving him again. Never again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He’d never wanted to go back to the world again, he wanted to give up, to quit, to let everyone figure out their own damn problems.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But he had to protect Tommy. He would do whatever it took to try and make that boy whole, or at least stop more cracks from forming on his skin. When it was finally his time to die, he would be able to rest, Wilbur would make sure of it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was going to protect Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He as going to save his little brother.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AHHHHHHH. He's dead guys. He's just dead. Like...I'm so sad. This is helping me cope.</p><p>Basically I fell in love with the idea of Tommy being yoiked out of the afterlife by Dream just to prove a point. So that's what this is. And I also love all the red strings fanart. It's so pretty. In like a sad way tho.</p><p>If you liked it leave a kudos or comment!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Another Monster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You know what I found rather unexpected?” Wilbur growled, “Puppet strings dragging my brother back to this hell!”</p>
<p>	“Puppet strings?” Dream smirked, “Wilbur, please, who do you think I am?”</p>
<p>	“I know exactly who you are,” Wilbur spoke icily, “And you know exactly who I am.”</p>
<p>	The two stared at each other for a moment. They both knew who they were, what they were. They both knew how to play a game that most of the world couldn't even comprehend. And that made them both very, very, dangerous.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> At first he felt nothing.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He thought he had failed, that he had lost Tommy and gotten stuck in the numbness once again. He thought Tommy had slipped out of his grasp, forced to stumble along on that hell of an Earth. He thought that he had left Tommy alone.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Then he opened his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> And he immediately wished he hadn’t.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> The light from a wall of lava pierced his eyes, sending foreign knives of pain through his head. The heat tore open his skin, a direct contrast from the moderate coolness of the afterlife. The obsidian suffocated him, forcing images of a control room and a fallen country to the top of his mind.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He nearly laughed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> This world only held pain.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> This prison was nothing but proof of that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He didn’t want to be here. Standing here in this cage, he knew the he wanted to go back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He could’ve learned to forgive himself. He could’ve been happy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>But Tommy wouldn’t have been.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He felt his younger brother’s shoulder start to shake beneath his hand, and he was suddenly reminded of why he had to stay. As much as he hated it here, as much as he had always hated it here, Tommy loved the world. And that stupid child would do anything to save it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>But what if he didn’t? What if you convince him to be like you? What if you could show him? </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He shook the voices from his head, of course they were back now. They hadn't been with him in the afterlife, he’d thought maybe resurrection would’ve pushed them away entirely.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> It had not.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> His fingers tightened around Tommy’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. <em>It’s okay</em>, he wanted to tell him, <em>I’m here now</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy looked back at him, fear shining in his eyes. The look was far too familiar to him. In Pogtopia, he knew he had been the cause of that fear. He had been the reason his brother had woken up at night screaming. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But it wasn't him this time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He wasn’t the only monster in this room.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> A piercing laugh sliced through the blanket of silence covering the room. It was maniacal; insanity dripped from every echo, and a euphoric satisfaction seemed to fill the air.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wilbur!” The voice greeted happily, “Well, this is certainly a surprise!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur’s whole body tightened in anger. <em>Dream. </em>He wanted to kill him. He wanted to watch as his hands tightened around his throat, as the light slowly drained from his emerald eyes. He wanted to watch Dream die, and he so badly wanted to be the one to do it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Now you’re getting into the spirit!</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He didn’t show that, of course, instead he simply nodded in acknowledgment.<br/>“Hello, Dream.” Wilbur greeted emotionlessly. In one swift motion he shoved Tommy behind him, separating his brother from Dream. Dream rolled his eyes at the gesture, but Wilbur could feel Tommy relax, “It’s been a while.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Another laugh bubbled out of Dream, and Wilbur fought down the fires churning in his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I can’t believe it worked!” Dream cried, running a hand through his hair, “I can’t believe I did it! I’m—I’m a god—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> A dry laugh echoed from Wilbur’s throat, interrupting Dream.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You think you’re a god?” Wilbur asked mockingly, “What? You think just because you managed to read a book on resurrection that you’re all all powerful deity? Honestly, Dream, that’s adorable!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> A small, dangerous smile settled on Dream’s face, the child-like giddiness slowly draining from his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I hadn’t planned for you coming back, you know?” He started, strolling lazily around the cell. His eyes locked on Wilbur, narrowing slightly, “Of course, I would’ve dragged you back at some point, but the timing here is rather…unexpected.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Unexpected?” Wilbur scoffed, raising himself to his full height. He’d always been taller than Dream. It was meaningless to him; it didn't change the fact that Dream could still easily beat him in a fight, but it had always irked the so-called <em>god </em>of the server that he <em>lost</em> to him at something as trivial as height.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You know what I found rather <em>unexpected?</em>” Wilbur growled, “Puppet strings dragging my brother back to this hell!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Puppet strings?” Dream smirked, “Wilbur, please, who do you think I am?”<br/>“I know exactly who you are,” Wilbur spoke icily, “And you know exactly who I am.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> The two stared at each other for a moment. They both knew who they were, what they were. They both knew how to play a game that most of the world couldn't even comprehend. And that made them both very, very, dangerous.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Dream cocked his head, “Well then you most certainly know that you owe me for bringing you back—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “No,” Wilbur interrupted, chuckling to himself, “No, no, no. Are you really trying control <em>me</em>? Do you really think you can string me up like another one of your puppets?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>You are not a puppet, but you could be the master! You pull the strings far more delicately than even Dream, all you have to do is let yourself!</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I suppose not.” Dream laughed, “Although that’s rather disappointing. I so enjoyed our time on the same team.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Can’t say the feeling’s mutual.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Hm. So, Wilbur, tell me,” Dream started, “If you don’t want to be a puppet, and you <em>didn’t </em>enjoy our quality time, then does that mean you plan on being a <em>hero </em>this time around?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur scoffed, “I’m no hero.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “But you don’t want to be the villain either?” Dream’s eyes shined. What game was he playing here?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur didn’t answer. He knew that some things had to be changed, he knew he had to make up for some mistakes, he knew some people had to die. But he didn’t want to be <em>the villain</em>. He wanted to help Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Ah, so you don’t.” Dream sneered, “A bit disappointing, but not surprising, besides you can’t hide your monster for long.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>He’s right, you know. It’s who you are, Wilbur, it’s who you always have been.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur scowled.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Dream simply smiled, shaking his head. His eyes shined as he directed his gaze towards the boy behind Wilbur. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Tommy—“ He started.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You do not get to talk to him.” Wilbur spat, shielding Tommy from Dream’s view.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Dream simply laughed, “Oh really? Honestly, Wilbur, who’s going to stop me? Tommy? You—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Dream was cut short by Wilbur wrapping his hands around his throat. Wilbur had never enjoyed violence, he’d simply found it a necessary means to achieve an end result, however, he would admit that occasionally violence could be gratifying.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> This was one of those times.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Then Dream smiled, and Wilbur knew he had fallen into a trap.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “See, Tommy!” Dream choked, a maniacal smile on his face, “You call me a monster, you call me <em>the villain</em>, yet you refuse to open your eyes to the truest villain of them all: your brother.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur could feel the fear pulsing off of Tommy behind him. Even turned away he could see the horror lurking behind his brother’s eyes. Dream thought he was so clever, didn’t he? Well, he could deal with a look of horror in his brother’s eyes, as long as he was safe from Dream, he didn’t particularly care how his brother looked at him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>You’re a liar. You want Tommy to love you. Killing Dream doesn’t make you a monster, it makes you a martyr! Yes, you’d be a villain, but you’d be a legend! </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Do it.” Dream choked hoarsely, excitement leeching from his tone, “Come on, Wilbur! Don’t be a <em>coward. </em>Come on, <em>Wilby</em>, I know you want to! I know you—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wilbur.” Tommy croaked, “Let him go. Wilbur, this—this isn’t you. You’re not a monster, please, Wilbur, don’t kill him. You’ll regret it, please, let’s just leave!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Ah, Tommy, but he is a monster. He would mercilessly watch the light drain from his eyes, and he would relish the sound of his body hitting the floor. He would grin as his lifeless eyes turned glassy, and he would dance on his grave.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> They were right, he wouldn't regret it for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But he couldn’t kill him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But it wasn’t Tommy that stopped him, it was the knowledge that Dream knew how to bring people back. If he could bring others back then what would stop him from coming back whenever he pleases? Did he even have such an ability?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> The knowledge that could be gained in that…world, the knowledge he had gained, was far too dangerous to fall into Dream’s hands. He wasn’t entirely sure that Dream would end up in the nothingness, but it wasn’t a chance he was willing to take. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Well fuck.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He couldn’t take the chance. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Dream knew he wouldn’t either. This had all been a ruse to show Tommy Wilbur’s inner demons. He’d simply wanted to show Tommy what a monster he was.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Bold of him to assume Tommy didn't already know.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He growled in frustration as he dropped Dream to the floor. Tommy sighed in relief behind him, and tension slowly released from his brothers' body. At least he didn’t have to see another person die, he supposed that was a bright side.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He squatted down next to Dream’s body, bringing his mouth even to his ear. Dream might have considered himself to be moving pieces on a chess board, but it was time to see how well he fared against an actual opponent.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I know what you did to Tommy. I saw it. I saw it all. And I will spend the rest of my life, and all the time after it, making sure that you pay.” He smiled, “I will be your reckoning, Dream.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Dream’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a small scowl. Wilbur grinned. He’d never actually seen the man scowl before, only that hideous mask or an even more grotesque smile. But a scowl, an honest to god scowl, he could work with that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Oh, this was going to be so much fun.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Tommy, listen to me—“ Dream started.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur threw his fist into Dream’s face, knocking the man out cold. He gazed down at the man coldly, clutching his fist in his hand. No matter, he’d find a way to kill him eventually. And he’d do it far away from Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Or don’t. Tommy deserves revenge more than anyone! Give it to him!</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wil—“ Tommy whispered behind him, trying to shroud the desperation leaking out of his voice. Wilbur felt himself soften, turning back towards Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Dream had tried to paint him as a monster, but he'd seemed to have forgotten just who his brother was. He’d seemed to have forgotten just how easy it was to make Tommy believe a lie, especially if it was something he wanted to hear.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I’m sorry you had to see that, Tommy. I guess being back in this world—it’s just so much.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He wasn’t a total liar. He was sorry Tommy had to see that, he didn’t deserve to witness anymore death. It was abhorrent how much pain he’d had to witness thus far, watching anyone, even your worst enemy, suffer must’ve felt awful.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> For Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur didn’t particularly mind it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> That didn’t mean he regretted what he did, what he would do to Dream. He was just apologetic that Tommy had to witness it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Don’t be! Let the rage run through Tommy, open his eyes to the revenge you see so clearly!</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He knew that Tommy understood Dream had to die. He knew that Tommy wanted Dream dead, but he also knew that Tommy still wasn’t entirely healed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> There the compulsion was again, the feelings in his stomach and chest that made him want to give Tommy the world. It might have been love, he just wasn’t entirely sure if that was something he was still capable of.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He would protect Tommy. And that meant killing Dream. And if he had a bit fun in doing so, well, that was just a happy coincidence.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But despite what he might have thought back in Pogtopia, he couldn’t help him alone. He couldn't be the only person there for Tommy. He hated that he couldn’t be the only person, but he knew who he was. He knew exactly who he was.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He wasn’t stable. He wasn’t enough.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Some day he would be enough for his brother. Some say the evils of the server would be vanquished, the dragons slain, and he would be able to rest, his brother by his side. Some day he would be enough.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Why do you need to slay the evils? There will always be evils! The only way to beat them is to become one! You could help this world, you could save Tommy! Just let yourself be the bad guy!</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “SAM!” He yelled, popping up to his feet, “GET US OUT OF HERE!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> There was no reply, but there was a small blinking light in the corner of the room. <em>A security camera</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy flinched at the loud voice, jerking away from the sound. His eyes widened at what he'd done, as if he was <em>sorry</em>. He immediately straightened, shame swirling in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Flashes of Tommy’s exile played through Wilbur’s mind. Rewinds of all of his pain and suffering and everything he didn’t deserve forced it’s way to the front.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He rested a light hand on Tommy’s shoulder. They both stood there, allowing the sounds of their breathing to fill the air. Tommy’s slowly steadied, and Wilbur felt a small smile stretch across his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> The wall of lava slowly descended, and Wilbur could see the flicker of hope in Tommy’s eyes. He wondered how he still did that, still hoped. It was a fools errand, the whimsy only a child could still possess. Hope was foolish.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But still, he felt his heart clench at the fact that Tommy was still able to. After every damn thing that had ever happened to him, he still managed to find the small flicker of hope in a galaxy of darkness. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He truly was an idiot.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Teach him to be better.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> The lava fell tantalizingly slowly; each second felt like a year as they waited. And waited. And waited. Until finally the lava was drained, until finally a Warden made his was across the fiery river on a platform.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur was angry with Sam, yes. He knew that he should’ve gotten Tommy out of the prison immediately, he should’ve recognized how wrong things could go the second Tommy even stepped foot in the cage.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But, if the tears streaming down his face were anything to go by, he figured he probably learned his lesson. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Sam rushed off of the platform, barreling towards Tommy. Wilbur deftly stepped out of the way, fading into the obsidian behind him. This wasn’t his moment. He could recognize that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Tommy?” Sam choked, cupping Tommy’s face in his hands. His hands shivered, as he ran his hand down Tommy’s cheek. He pulled Tommy into a hug, gripping onto him tightly, as if trying to make sure he was real.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You—you’re alive?“ He choked, “I thought—we all thought—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “He killed me.” Tommy whispered, clutching onto him, “I—I was dead. He kill—killed me, just to bring me back. That son of a bitch.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur could pinpoint the moment Sam’s attention latched onto him. Sam’s body tensed and a frown grew. The Warden’s eyes narrowed, taking in Wilbur’s presence. He shifted his body slightly, positioning himself closer to Wilbur than Tommy was. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Good. At least Sam was able to assess a threat when he saw one, even if he was misguided in thinking Wilbur would ever hurt Tommy. He would never be that person. Well, not again at least.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> In the nothingness that was the afterlife, he was forced to relive some of his memories without the crutch of his blinding emotions. He was forced to watch them objectively, forced to watch the fires swirling behind his own eyes, forced to watch as those fires trapped his brother in their heat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He had been the villain. But he wasn’t anymore. <em>Not yet. </em>He would never hurt Tommy. He knew who he was, he knew what he’d done, knew what he might do. But he would never ever hurt Tommy again, and he would destroy anyone who did.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Sounds slightly villainous to me.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Sam raised a single eyebrow in his direction, his <em>subtle </em>way of asking if Wilbur had any <em>nefarious</em> plans. He was still clutching Tommy to his chest, cradling the boy in his arms as he sized up the man that had been brought back with him. Wilbur knew that Sam wanted to protect him too, he might not trust anyone in this fucking world, not anymore, but Sam had been there for Tommy when he couldn’t. He owed him that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He nodded once, crisply in Sam’s direction. <em>Thank you. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Sam nodded back, a small smile on his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy pulled back from Sam, emotions swirling in his eyes, “You—you left me, Sam.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I know, Tommy—I—I tried to—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “No,” Tommy choked, shaking his head, “I don’t—you don’t. You let me die.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I’m so sorry.” Sam whispered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Yeah.” Tommy said, “I know.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur cocked his head. Tommy was right. They had seen Sam mourn over Tommy’s body, watched as the Warden had shattered before their very eyes, however that didn't make him completely innocent.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He had chosen his job, some meaningless title, over Tommy. Wilbur figured he had learned his lesson, which made him better than just about everyone else on this server, but that didn't make him completely innocent.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Kill him too! Come on, you’re the only person Tommy needs! You’re his brother, his family!</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> They were wrong about this, the voices. Tommy needed others. He needed a whole fucking village.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> A village that started with Sam.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He wondered if Tommy would forgive him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> One part of him did. One part of him wanted Tommy to accept the love that Sam would no doubt provide him with, he wanted Tommy to be able to forgive his father-figure so that he could finally have someone good in his life.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> That'd be nice. That’d be best for Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But another part of him, the other part, wanted to watch as the revenge festered inside Tommy, maybe then he would understand. The anger infected you like a disease, it crawled up your veins, settled in your mind and was impossible to cure. Maybe if Tommy started to feel that, maybe he could see the horrors on this server. Then again, maybe he already did.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I’m gonna fucking sue you.” Tommy whispered hoarsely, “How could you do this to me, da—Sam. I just—I—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I know, Tommy, I promise I will never—”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “But you did!” Tommy cried, voice breaking, “You did, Dad. You left me there to die.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He turned away from the scene, a small part of him feeling as if he was intruding. He could see that something had fractured between the two of them, but Tommy had overcome much worse obstacles with much worse people, and unlike those other people, Sam might have the capacity to be there for Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Maybe they could go to therapy together.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> That’d certainly be a sight.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Well,” Wilbur announced, clapping his hands, “I would much rather partake in teary reunions <em>outside</em> of this prison, so if you don’t mind…” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh, yeah, of course.” Sam said, he threw a glance to the knocked out Dream, throwing him a few potatoes, “That should last him a week.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> It wouldn’t.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> The man would practically be starving.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur chuckled to himself, maybe him and Sam had more in common than he had previously thought.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> They exited the cell. Wilbur traveled through the labyrinth of the prison without speaking a single word. He could hear Tommy snipping at Sam some, but he tuned it out. Yes, Tommy felt sad about what happened with him and Sam, Sam had hurt Tommy, but he didn’t believe Sam needed any extra punishment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He was truly heartbroken, and that was a pain far worse than anything Wilbur could ever inflict.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Once they reached the doors to the prison, Wilbur felt a smile bloom on his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>The sun</em>. Oh, how he loved the sun. He had missed it, the Earth. In this world the people were all toxins, but there was beauty in the ground, in the air, in the ocean. How he desperately wanted to see the ocean again!</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wilbur?” Tommy asked, “I’m gonna—I’m gonna go see Tub—everyone. According to what da—Sam says everyone thinks I’m dead, so I— I might wanna clear that up.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur frowned. That was not a good idea. Tommy wouldn’t like how they reacted. Yes, they had mourned his death, but that didn’t mean that they would celebrate his resurrection.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> This was a bad idea.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But maybe it wasn’t.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Let him go! He needs this! This is the only way for him to start to grow. This is the only way to learn.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Yes, it would hurt Tommy, and that tore him apart inside, but wouldn’t it be worth it? If this one small dose of pain could potentially help save him years of heartbreak from staying on this Earth, wouldn’t it be worth it?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> It would.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Okay.” Wilbur answered, “I think that sounds like a great idea. I’ll meet you at the hotel in a few hours.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Good. This will help him</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He didn’t usually like listening to the voices. They tended to be very extreme, and not particularly discreet. But they did occasionally give good advice, and they were a part of him. Maybe it would help if he started to listen to them more.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>You know who you need to go see! Imagine their faces when they see you. Oh, just go already! This is going to be so much fun!</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur started to walk away, but he was stopped by a shout from Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wait, where are you going? Don’t you have to, like, tell people you’re not dead or something?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh, they’ll figure it out eventually. As for where I’m going…” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur allowed his eyes to wander to the North, he couldn’t see it, but he knew somewhere in that direction there was a cabin, a cabin that held 2/4ths of a broken family. A family that had been one of the main causes of Tommy’s pain, a family that had fractured at the seams.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> His eyes narrowed, “…I think I need to pay our family a little visit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I gave Wilbur voices. I made them different from Techno's. Techno's voices to me have always just seemed like an exact embodiment of chat (ex: Technopog, technolate, lmao, BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD), whereas Wilbur's is more just like voices that represent the evil in him. Idk. That's just kinda what I wanted to do.</p>
<p>Yeah, so basically Revived-bur in this is more morally grey Vilbur. He wants to protect Tommy, and he sees things a bit clearer than he did as Vilbur, but he wants people to pay for they've done, and he wants revenge for himself and Tommy.</p>
<p>Cool. So that's what this was. Canon continues to make me sad and angry. So here's this.</p>
<p>If you liked it kudos and comments make me feel happy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Family Ties</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Hey, Dadza.” Wilbur smirked, trying to swallow the emotions that were churning in his gut, “Did you miss me?”</p>
<p>	“W—Wil?” Phil questioned, confusion lacing the words, “Wilbur? Son, is it really you?”</p>
<p>	He raised a hand to cup his cheek, but Wilbur slapped it away, “It’s rather chilly out here, Phil, mind if I come in?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur had never liked the snow. The cold was bitter and unforgiving, a desolate landscape that he had never been able to see the beauty in. It had always done nothing but repulse him; pushed him towards beaches and green fields and even caves.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Yet, while his hatred for the snow and Arctic was well known, the rest of his family had always adored it: Phil enjoyed the peace the cold brought, Techno appreciated the tactical advantage the Antarctic provided, and Tommy just loved starting snowball fights.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But Wilbur had never been able to see the appeal. He didn’t understand how they could stand the frost that was always biting away at your skin, tearing you open from the outside. He didn’t understand how they found it amusing, even beautiful. He only saw the cold as a synonym for death.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>That’s why they built the Empire in the Antarctic: so that they wouldn’t have to deal with you nipping at their heels. You were nothing but a pest to them; a virus. Well, if they’ve always thought of you as a pestilence, it’s only right that they start to feel the poison.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Despite his disdain for the cold, he found himself wading through ankle deep snow. His feet ached with numbness as he trudged ahead. He was shivering; the wind bit at his face and ripped at his hair.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Luckily, he still had his jacket from Pogtopia. It had always gotten rather cold down in the caves, not the kind of inescapable cold that had existed in the Empire, but rather an uncomfortable chill.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> The jacket had always kept him warm, if not occasionally overheated.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> In the Arctic, it would keep him alive.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Eventually after what felt like hours of hiking, Wilbur saw grey puffs of smoke swirling in the distance. Even from far away, he could feel the warmth radiating from the cabin. It made him sick.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> A bitter smile stretched across his face. He didn’t want to talk to them, but Tommy needed them. Tommy needed them in his life.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> They had hurt him time and time again, but so had Wilbur.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Of course, he needed to teach them a lesson, but Tommy also deserved to have them in his life, didn’t he?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>That’s bullshit. Tommy only needs you! You know what they did to him!! Burn the cabin down, kill them all!! They don’t care about you, they don't care about Tommy! Hell, they replaced him! LOOK!</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> His eyes landed on a rather odd looking teenager walking away from the home. Wait, he knew him! Well, they’d technically never met, but he’d seen him from the afterlife. He’s that weird one, the memory boy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He’s the one who had mourned Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He was Tommy’s replacement, the one Phil and Techno had traded him in for. He was the <em>upgrade</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Now that just wouldn’t do.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Hey!” Wilbur shouted, trying to get his attention. At the sound, the Endermen hybrid immediately froze, as if a shock had ran through his body. Wilbur laughed slightly, he wasn’t exactly the courageous type, was he?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur strolled over to him lazily. He wasn’t particularly worried about him running away, his feet seemed to be glued to the ground, and he looked as if he was in some sort of paralysis.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You—“ The kid started, shaking his head, “You’re—you’re him. How are you—what—how—”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wilbur Soot,” A grin stretched across his face as he offered his hand, “It’s a pleasure.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> The teenager eyed his outstretched hand warily. He held his hand out for a few more moments before he lowered it with a frown. Of course the kid wouldn’t trust him, he had been the <em>villain</em>, after all.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Of course </em><b><em>they</em></b><em> did this! They painted you as a monster! They commend themselves as martyrs, yet look down on you as the villain! This is their fault, they are no family of yours.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He knew it wasn’t entirely Techno and Phil’s doing, Ranboo was probably right to be scared of him; he had blown up an entire country, after all. Although apparently blowing up L’manburg wasn’t exactly a deterrent to the child</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “So you’ve heard of me, I suppose?” Wilbur asked with a small smirk.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Y—yeah.” Ranboo muttered confusedly, “But you—you’re de—you’re—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Don’t be scared, <em>Ranboo</em>.” He stretched out the name, the word sounding foreign in his mouth, “That is your name, is it not?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Ranboo simply nodded, terror swimming in his red and green eyes. The child looked so terrified of him, it was almost funny! He’d missed this, the fear that he could command, the respect he garnered along with it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Yes! Come on, Wilbur. You know what your path holds, you know how this story ends. Don’t elongate the pages, let’s jump straight to the ending!! Be the bad guy!</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Ranboo wasn’t the bad guy, though. He was supposedly kind. He had cared about Tommy. Sure, they hadn’t exactly been <em>best friends</em>, but he had mourned his death. Wilbur sighed. Maybe the kid deserved his thanks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You have a lovely taste in flowers, Ranboo.” Wilbur whispered eventually, “Tommy, while he might never show it, truly appreciated what you did for him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Ranboo’s face fell, “So he really—he really is dead?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur titled his head, a small smile brimming onto his face, “Ranboo, if I am very obviously alive, then why would you still believe Tommy to be dead?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Ranboo sputtered, avoiding the question.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>He doesn’t think you’re real. A bit pathetic, honestly. He doesn’t even trust his own eyes. You can use this! Imagine what you could do! Dream no doubt has his strings wrapped around the kid, if you could take control…</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Ranboo,” Wilbur started, trying to shake the voice from his head, “Do you think this is all in your head?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Ranboo stayed silent, squishing his eyes together. He rubbed his eyes, as if trying to wake himself from a dream. Although if he thought that his mind could conceive something as horrible as Wilbur, than he was probably more accustomed to nightmares.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur laughed slowly, setting a hand on Ranboo’s shoulder. Ranboo flinched at the contact, and Wilbur immediately jerked his hand away. But the point had been proven, he was as real as Ranboo was.<br/>“Tommy <em>was </em>dead, yes. But he’s—<em>we’re</em> back now.” Wilbur smirked, “In fact, it’s fairly unwise of me to make my presence known, but I couldn’t allow a kind little child like you to prolong his suffering, now could I?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “What—what do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur’s eyes darkened, his presence changing entirely. Moments before he had seemed very presidential, <em>sane</em>, but as his eyes narrowed, Ranboo could see the reason this man was feared. He could see the villain lurking beneath the shell of a hero.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Leave.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I don’t—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Get out of Techno and Phil’s lives.” Wilbur said with a wave of his hands, “They will bring you nothing but pain.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Ranboo’s eyes darted wildly around, looking anywhere but at Wilbur.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “They’ve always been kind to me, they—they’re not the bad guys—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur chuckled darkly, “Sure. They opened their arms to you, granted you refuge, but how long do you think that will last?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wh—what?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I’ve seen you, from the afterlife, you know.” Wilbur’s presence shifted again, and suddenly his was a big brother, a guiding hand, a trustworthy figure, “You’re a good kid, Ranboo, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, so naturally, one day you will disagree with what they do. You will believe a country deserves to stand tall, or someone that you deem innocent deserves to live. One day, Ranboo, you will disagree with Phil and Techno.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur looked away, eyes fixing on the cabin. He could feel the anxiety radiating off of Ranboo, fear and terror at war with curiosity. He could fell his urge to run, to go and hide, but he knew Ranboo couldn’t stop himself from listening to Wilbur. Then again, no one ever could. He smirked slightly, head turned away from Ranboo.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You don’t believe in violence? Well Phil and Techno revel in it! One day you’re going to beg them to stop, you’ll plead and cry and scream, but they will not listen. No matter how much you love them, no matter how much you think they love you, they’re ideologies and twisted moralities will always come first!” Wilbur laughed bitterly, turning back towards Ranboo, he gripped his shoulders, forcing eye contact, “They might care about you, but they care about themselves so much more.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Ranboo gaped at Wilbur, who simply threw him a sorrowful glance.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Think about what I said.” Wilbur instructed, letting go of Ranboo and turning back towards the cabin, “Do you really think your precious domestic life can last? You might be happy with it, happy with peace. But despite what they say, Techno and Phil will always crave the comfort of war.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Ranboo gulped loudly, nodding slightly. Wilbur fought down a smile. The seeds of doubt were planted in his mind. Sure, he would probably still be on Techno and Phil’s side, but his insecurity could prove to be a time bomb. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> And it would explode in glorious destruction!</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “See you around, Ranboo.” He announced, “Oh, and do me a favor? Don’t tell anyone I’m back,” His eyes glinted with something dangerous, “I’d like it to be a bit of a surprise.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Without another word he stalked down to the cabin. He could feel Ranboo’s eyes digging into his back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> His boots echoed on the polished wood as stairs creaked beneath his feet. Why was he nervous? He shouldn’t be nervous. He was only doing this for Tommy. Tommy needed his family. He shouldn’t be nervous, these people meant nothing to him! Nothing!<br/>His eyes narrowed as he rasped on the door. A muffled voice yelled something from inside, but Wilbur couldn’t make out what they were saying. He recognized the voice, though. It was hard to forget the voice of the man who sung you to sleep for the very last time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> It was hard to forget the voice of your father.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Ranboo,” Phil complained affectionately as he swung open the door, “I already told you—“ His eyes landed on Wilbur and his face fell. Wilbur always knew the emotions lurking behind someone’s eyes. He could always see their cards, and he knew how to win at even the most basic of games.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But as he looked into the eyes of Philza Minecraft, he realized he had no bloody clue what his father was thinking.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Hey, <em>Dadza.</em>” Wilbur smirked, trying to swallow the emotions that were churning in his gut, “Did you miss me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “W—Wil?” Phil questioned, confusion lacing the words, “Wilbur? Son, is it really you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He raised a hand to cup his cheek, but Wilbur slapped it away, “It’s rather chilly out here, father, mind if I come in?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Without waiting for a response, he shoved past Phil and into the small cabin. Despite what you would expect from two of the most feared warriors in the world, it was rather cute.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Oak floors were polished and shined, a small table with three chairs sat in the corner of the cabin, a kitchenette right next to it. A fire sat in front of a plush couch and two comfy chairs, casting waves of warmth into the house.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> It was quiet, peaceful, it was a <em>home</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He wouldn’t regret burning it to ashes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “How—how are you—“ Phil spluttered, shutting the door.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur waved his hand dismissively, “Dream killed Tommy, Tommy met me in the afterlife, Dream dragged Tommy back, I wouldn’t let him come alone, you know, normal stuff.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Phil shook his head, still staring at Wilbur. He wasn’t blinking, as if moving his eyes away even for a moment would make Wilbur disappear.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur plopped down into one of the dining room chairs, lazily throwing his feet up onto the table. Phil always hated when he did this, not that it was an issue he’d press today.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “What?” Phil whispered eventually, taking the seat across from Wilbur, “Tommy—Tommy died? Dream resurrected you both? You’re not making any sense, Wil—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “No, you’re just a remarkably bad listener.” Wilbur said with an eye roll. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wilbur, I—I don’t,” A laugh bubbled out of Phil’s chest, “This—this is amazing! I can’t believe you’re back, Wil—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Don’t go soft on me now, Dad.” Wilbur interrupted. He raised from his chair, stalking over to his father. He leaned in to his father, anger brimming on his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You killed me, you put me out of my misery, and I will forever be grateful for that. But I thought it would be fine after that! I thought you would just put me behind you, just like you always did! I thought you would be there for Tommy and Fundy!!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wil—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “No, Dad! For once, just listen to me!” Wilbur had gotten dangerously close to Phil, and while he wasn’t planning on assaulting his dad, apparently it was easy for some people to get the wrong idea.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wilbur.” A deadpan voice said sternly, “I’m gonna need ya to take a step back.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur took a deep breath, cringing at the sword that was digging into his back. He didn’t need to see it to know that it was netherite, no doubt expertly crafted. It had to be of quality suitable for his <em>brother</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Hello, Technoblade.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> A smirk fell on to Wilbur’s face as he turned towards his twin. Well, adopted twin. He was the only biological son, but that had never stopped Phil from favoring his brother at every possible moment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “So you’re back?” Technoblade asked monotonously. Technoblade had always shielded his emotions behind the curtains of his eyes. He never let anyone see what he didn’t want them too. Most people believed the blood god to lack any sort of emotion.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But Wilbur could always tell. He could see the emotions that Technoblade so desperately tried to hide. He could see all of the anger, sadness, pain, <em>love, </em>and maybe even a little bit of regret.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Ha! Who was he kidding? Technoblade was as stubborn as an ox, and he had never regretted anything; at least nothing he had ever admitted to.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “In the flesh.” Wilbur answered, ducking under the sword. Technoblade allowed him to maneuver away from the point, sizing up his recently revived brother. He didn’t like what he saw.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur repositioned himself and soon found the point of the sword pointed at his neck. Well, he was glad to see at least one person in this family hadn’t changed. Technoblade was still an asshole.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “What exactly do you plan on doing with that?” Wilbur asked, eyeing the sword.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Technoblade’s gaze hardened, “Whatever is necessary.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Techno—“ Phil started, but Wilbur waved him off.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “What are you gonna do? <em>Kill me?</em> Do you really think I fear death? Death is a paradise compared to this hell!” Wilbur chuckled mirthlessly, “You both have spent your entire lives fearing a world far more forgiving than this one.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I’m not going to kill you, Wil.” Technoblade muttered, concern evident in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Ah, but you would’ve killed Tommy, although sadly Dream beat you to it. But now he’s back, so I assume you’ll have a second chance.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Technoblade shook his head, “I don’t care about what happens to Tommy anymore, he’s no brother of mine.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Phil ducked his head, probably trying to hide his agreement. Wilbur had always found that funny. His father had never been able to appreciate him creating a country, or Tommy willing to give his life to defend it, but Technoblade could never do anything wrong.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Even if he was practically disowning his own family.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Luckily, while Technoblade’s words might sound convincing to anyone else, Wilbur could tell he was lying.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Of course he cared.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He had always cared.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> That’s what made him dangerous.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur cocked his head, lazily picking at his nail “Be that as it may, Techno, you fucked up his life.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I saved his life!” Technoblade protested. The sword had been set on the ground, there was no need for it. Even if Wilbur made the decision to start a fight, Technoblade didn’t exactly need a weapon to take him down.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “If he would’ve been able to see his future, then he would’ve begged for death.” Wilbur spat, “You ignored him in exile, offered to <em>trade </em>him to Dream, and consistently told a traumatized child that he was nothing more than a business partner. So, yes, you might have saved his life, but that doesn’t excuse you from ruining it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Technoblade’s eyes narrowed, “He betrayed me, he chose his country over his family.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur choked out a laugh, “<em>Family? </em>Is that what we are now?! You just said that he was no brother of yours, you have no right to call him family! I’m his family! Sam is his family! Puffy is his family! You were just an obstacle!!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur’s eyes widened with realization.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>YES!! They are not your family! You see it now! You and Tommy are family, you and Fundy are family! These people are just parasites who have fed off of your love for far too long!</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wil—“ Phil gasped, anger evident on his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You blew up his country, Dad! You smiled as TnT rained down on <em>your son</em>!” His voice quavered slightly, “You’re a monster.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Maybe it was a family trait.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Phil shook his head, and Wilbur could see guilt starting to seep in. Wilbur was right. He always was. Phil might love Technoblade enough to defend him to the bitter end, but he felt enough guilt about Wilbur’s death to at least feel some other emotions.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Destroying L’manburg was your legacy—“ Phil choked, “I—“<br/>Wilbur laughed coldly, “Is that what you two think?! Did you think destroying L’manburg was my legacy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Technoblade frowned, “Keeping L’manburg alive was not your legacy, Wilbur, the country was a virus, infecting all the inhabitants.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur chuckled, turning away from his family. His laugh echoed throughout the room, creating waves of tension.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Wil,” Phil started, “Your legacy—“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “SHUT UP!” Wilbur yelled, swinging back around to glare at them, his eyes were wide, the fires burning behind them on full display, “My legacy was not L’manburg! My legacy wasn’t destroying it! Do you want to know what my legacy was? Do you really want to know?!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Phil and Techno stayed silent, apprehensively watching him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “The people.” Wilbur whispered, “Tommy was my legacy, Fundy was my legacy, <em>Niki and Jack </em>were supposed to be my legacy. I loved L’manburg, yes. But my legacy was supposed to be the greatness of its inhabitants. Tommy should’ve been allowed to be a kid, Fundy should’ve had a grandfather he could rely on, Jack shouldn’t have had to face his anger alone, and Niki should have had someone to listen to her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>You were the one who stopped Tommy from being a kid. You were the one who had never been there for your son. You were the one who never gave Jack a second glance. You were the one who always shrugged off Niki’s idea, viewing her as nothing more than a baker.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur shut his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He knew part of it was his fault. He knew that. But he would make it better, he would try his damnedest to make sure Tommy got to find happiness, he would make sure Fundy got a father, he would make sure that Jack and Niki never felt unheard again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He would try.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But the two men in front of them, the only people they would ever try for were each other. They would never try to fix their mistakes, the don’t even have the courtesy to acknowledge that they made any.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur had been wrong.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy didn’t need Techno and Phil. Tommy needed people who would actually be there for him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “That’s not—“ Techno started, but Wilbur cut him off.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “NO! Think about what you’ve done! You broke Tommy, abandoned <em>my son</em>, you actively encouraged Niki’s plan to kill Tommy, and you still parade around as if you are so very high and mighty. You are not the good guys!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “And you are?” Technoblade questioned angrily, “Wilbur, you were <em>the </em>bad guy!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I know that!” Wilbur yelled. His face fell, and he closed in on himself slightly. He set his hand on the back of a chair, steadying himself slightly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “I know that.” He whispered again, bringing his eyes to look at Techno and Phil, “But even if I am the villain, I will not allow my baby brother to die as the hero.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur stood up straightening his jacket, swiftly changing the topic “I came here to warn you both to stay out of my way.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>That was a lie. You came here to make amends. Not that they would ever let you do that, Technoblade is probably already planning your death.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “What do you mean?” Phil asked, raising himself to a standing position, “Wil, what do you plan on doing here?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur frowned, “I’m here to protect Tommy, and I’m telling you not to get in my way.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “And what if we do?” Technoblade asked, bringing his sword to hand.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur smiled, “I’ll break you, Technoblade.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Technoblade smirked, “That’s a lot harder than you might think.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur directed his gaze to Phil. His father might have been alive for centuries, but he only had one life. He could see the age wearing on him, the longevity of his life starting to feel like a burden.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He could kill him if he wanted.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Techno,” Wilbur said with a smirk, “I don’t have to lay a finger on you. For someone so strong you really do have a habit of picking fragile allies.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Phil scoffed, “I’ve been alive for a long time, Wil, killing me might prove a daunting task, even for you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He obviously believed the thought of Wilbur killing him to be ridiculous. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur resisted the urge to laugh. Killing Technoblade would have been a challenge, but his father already seemed to be on death’s door. He would know. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Still, a threat to Phil wasn’t that intimidating to them. But they didn’t know what he was capable of. They had never known. And now he was so much more. He had watched and he had learned, and now it was time to put it to use.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But it might be best to keep his knowledge to himself for now. They didn’t know that he could plan hundreds of intricate death traps, each perfectly brilliant. Maybe that was for the best, the element of surprise could be used to his advantage.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> So if they believed him to be <em>weak (of course they do, they always have), </em>then he had to threaten someone they believed to be weaker.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Lucky for him, Phil and Techno had made the mistake of opening their arms to another.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “You know I had a rather lovely conversation with Ranboo earlier,” Wilbur muttered, hand on the door knob, ready to leave at a moment’s notice, “He really does care about you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Technoblade’s face contorted, “Don’t you even—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh, I won’t. That is if you stay out of my way. Of course, if you threaten me, Tommy, Fundy, or anyone else I care about in any way,” His eyes glinted, “Then I might have to get to know Ranboo a bit better, don’t you think?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Phil ducked his head again. He was ashamed of him. That was a shocker. Technoblade, on the other hand was filled with rage. He looked as if he wanted to run Wilbur through with his sword right there, but a comforting hand from Phil stopped him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Well,” Wilbur said with a smile, “This was fun! I don’t plan on doing it again, though. In fact, stay the hell away from me and Tommy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “He’s my son.” Phil whispered, “You’re my son.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Not anymore.” Wilbur whispered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> The finality of the statement echoed throughout the cabin. He had severed the ties between them, there was no coming back from this.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Good.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “Goodbye.” Wilbur whispered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> They didn’t say anything as Wilbur stepped out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> Maybe one day, after the ashes settle, they could talk again—</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">
    <em> NO! They tarnished your name, they blew up for country! You should’ve been the one to blow it to shreds. YOU WERE FRANKENSTEIN! IT WAS YOUR MONSTER TO DESTROY! But they took that away from you too! They blew up your country, hurt your brother and son, they are no family of yours.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> The voices were right. They weren’t his family.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> But he had never been the best brother…or the best father. If he was here, he couldn’t just help Tommy, he had to help his son. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He had to find Fundy.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm probably gonna go back and edit this chapter later. I'm not entirely happy with it, but I hope you guys like it.</p>
<p>Listen, I wasn't originally going to put Ranboo in this chapter, but then the Ranboo supremacy hit me hard. He's doing a writing contest on his discord?! Like how awesome is that?! I mean, I prob won't enter because I'm a coward, but that's still amazing!</p>
<p>Anyways, next chapter we get Wilbur talking to the person he hurt the most: his son.</p>
<p>If you liked it kudos and comments are appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Unloved's Interlude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Go away, Ghostbur,” He choked, trying to hide the hiccups in his voice, “I just—I want to be alone right now.”</p>
<p>	“That’s understandable,” The voice said, “But sometimes a boy just needs his father.”</p>
<p>	“You’re not my—“ Fundy started, turning around. When his eyes locked onto the man standing at the top of the pier his eyes widened, taking in the figure in front of him, “Dad?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The salt water licked at his toes as he hesitantly dipped them into the waves. Pinpricks of ice shot through his veins as the cold water attacked his skin, but as he relaxed, a small sigh of contentment bubbled out of him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He was comfortably seated on the edge of a stretch of wooden planks, more officially known as the Dream SMP pier.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The SMP didn’t trade much, so the pier was relatively abandoned. At the lack of attention, he had deemed himself in charge of keeping it pristine. He used to come here every night and clean it, made sure it sparkled under the sun. But he hadn't been here recently, so some cracks in the wood were starting to form.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Despite his recent absence, he had always loved the pier. It wasn’t big or flashy or complicated, just a few wooden planks over the sea. But the simplicity didn’t make it any less beautiful. Not to him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> To him, the pier was one of the only places that could still be considered beautiful in this wretched world. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He knew that behind him sat the demolished remains of L’manburg. The demolished remains of a country that he was supposed to love. If he simply turned his head slightly he would be able to see the chasm carved into the middle of their world, the chasm he had allowed them to create.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But he didn’t look back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He kept his eyes forward, settling on the soft waves and the sunlight that gleaned off of the crystal waters.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But while the sea was stunning, he never came here simply to admire the beauty of it. He knew the pier was where <em>she</em> could hear him best, it was the place he felt the most connected to her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He could make excuses of time, or an inflexible schedule, but he knew the true reason he hadn’t visited recently was because he didn’t want to see her. He couldn’t ignore the feeling that she would be disappointed in him, just like everyone else.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But he missed her too much to stay away forever.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Even if she was dead.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Hey, Mom,” Fundy whispered to the waves, “I know it’s been a while, but I just wanted to drop in, say hi.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He chuckled sadly, picking at the chipping wood by his side, “Sorry I haven’t visited in a while, but it—it’s been harder recently, to keep going. I—I don’t know what to do anymore. I wanted to watch it burn, to watch it all go down in flames. I wanted to see everything that Dad had built, everything that he had wanted to give <em>Tommy, </em>finally die.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He shook his head, pain leeching into his words, “But I don’t feel <em>anything</em>, Mom, I don’t feel vindicated, or happy, or even regretful, I just feel nothing. Cold, desolate <em>numbness</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He felt tears start to cloud his eyes as he sighed, “I just—I wish you were here. Not that that’s anything new, but—but I just—it’d be easier with you—maybe even with Dad.” He chuckled bitterly, “I tried so hard, Mom. I tried to be someone that everyone would like, someone that Dad, Grandpa, even Aunt Niki could love, but they always leave me, don’t they?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He sighed, “ I just always wonder if I’m someone you would be proud of, someone you would love.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh, Fundy,”A voice said from behind him, “She loved you more than life itself. She loved you more than the sea loves the sand, more than the sky loves the stars, more than the Earth loves the rain!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy ducked his head, turning away from the noise. Why did he always have to be here? Couldn’t he see that he wanted to be alone? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Go away, Ghostbur,” He choked, trying to hide the hiccups in his voice, “I just—I want to be alone right now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “That’s understandable,” The voice said, “But sometimes a boy just needs his father.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You’re not my—“ Fundy started, turning around. When his eyes locked onto the man standing at the top of the pier his eyes widened, taking in the figure in front of him, “Dad?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur—the real Wilbur—smiled back at Fundy, “Hello, Fundy, it’s been far too long.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy shook his head, jerking his eyes back to the waves in front of him. Niki had warned him of this, he knew that she saw him occasionally. He wasn’t real. This was all in his head, he had to remember that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You’re not real.” He muttered, “My dad—my fath—Wilbur died on November 16. He’s dead. He’s not real. You’re not real.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur simply cocked his head, a small smile on his face, “Oh I assure you, Fundy, I am as real as you are.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He felt a hand settle on his shoulder. He hated the touch, but at the same time it was all he had ever wanted. He knew it was his father, and not the shell that roamed the world, but his <em>real</em> father: his distant, condescending, psychopath of a father.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The same father who had abandoned him when he needed him most, who had given up on him just like everyone else, the same father who had decided to leave him all alone in this desolate world.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He shook of the touch, eyes still locked on the sea in front of him. Okay, so he was real. His father was definitely real. And here. Why? Why would he come back? His dad hated everything and everyone that he had left behind, why would he ever want to revisit that?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He shook his head, thoughts jumbling in his brain. He should feel something. Why didn’t he feel anything?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He just found out that his father was revived! The man who had loved, hurt, and betrayed him so many times was simply no longer dead! He should be crying, yelling, jumping for joy, at least doing something! He just wanted to feel something, she sort of relief, or happiness, or anger, but instead he just felt empty.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Numb.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He didn’t want to talk to him. He didn’t.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur didn’t say anything else, instead choosing to sit beside his son, joining him in staring at the waves.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I met her in Newfoundland.” He whispered eventually.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy’s eyes shot towards his father. Was he talking about <em>her</em>? No, there was no way. He never talked about her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Ever since Mom died, Wilbur refused to talk about her much. Anytime Fundy would ask about her, anytime he would beg for a single picture, Wilbur always changed the topic. All he would ever say was that she had loved Fundy more than anything.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The words had lost their meaning after a while.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He never told Fundy anything about her. Sure, Fundy could still remember who she was, he’d been 7 when she died. But sometimes her face became blurry, or he felt her voice starting to slip away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It had been those days where he had begged his father to tell him something, anything, about Sally. But he never did.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Until now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “M-Mom?” Fundy asked, “You met her in Newfoundland?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur chuckled lightly, and the monster that had blown up L’manburg faded, replaced not by the bold leader of L’manburg, or the transparent ghost that haunted the lands, but by the man who existed before all of this. Wilbur looked like the man Sally had fallen in love with.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur looked like Fundy’s father.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “L’manburg was the flame that burned the brightest, but it was by no means the only fire I set ablaze.” He muttered, fondness dripping from his words, “Newfouldand had been my first attempt at trying to help this fucked up world. It had been a total mess. There was no structure, no order, nothing. I wasn’t even the technical leader. But the people looked up to me, they viewed me not as their ruler, but as their mentor. I was someone who could help them. People were happy there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy leaned into his Dad. He’d heard stories about Newfoundland before, he knew that it had been his father’s first real attempt an running a country, but it was never his father telling the stories of it. It was always from the mouth of his Grandfather, who spoke of the country as a childish obstacle Wilbur had placed in the way of the Antarctic Empire.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He’d heard Newfoundland was backwards, useless, unable to defend itself from the weakest of attacks. The Antarctic Empire had saved it. Of course, all this was all before Techno and Phil disbanded the Empire, but he’d heard that Wilbur hadn’t talked to Phil for a whole year after Newfoundland was conquered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Apparently conquering your son’s town doesn’t put you on the best of terms.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I met her there. Your mother. I was out on the water, on a supply ship. I don’t remember why I was there, I never went with the people on supply runs, but for some reason I had stepped onto that boat. It was as if the had been a force pulling me to the boat, to the ocean,” He smiled out at the water, voice shaking slightly, “To her.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy leaned in intently, grasping onto every word.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “The weather had seemed as if it was going to be fine, maybe even beautiful, the crew though it would be an easy journey,” His eyes clouded slightly as the memory filled his mind, “But then the clouds started rolling in, and by the time the rain started pouring we were already too far out from shore to turn back.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur smiled, looking out at the water, “Waves started crashing into the ship, supplies fell over board, crates rattled left and right. It was hectic, but we would get through it. None of us made any dangerous moves, but then a wave crashed, and a man fell overboard.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I could see it in their eyes—the crew—they would’ve gone in after him, but I wasn’t going to let that happen. So before anyone could make a move I rushed in after him, ignoring the cries. I remember that I got him secured to a rope—I remember the cheers—but something hit me—I think it was one of the crates—and next thing I knew everything went dark.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What—how did you—“ Fundy started, but a chuckle from Wilbur stopped him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I remember thinking that I was done for,” Wilbur laughed softly, “My last thoughts weren’t happy. I thought Da—Phil would be disappointed in my death, assumed he would think it to be trivial. I wondered how I could leave the world defenseless to Technoblade’s sword, and I wondered how I could leave Tommy all alone.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “But you didn’t die, did you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur smirked, “I should’ve, but I was saved by the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I saw flashes of her while I was out, she was otherworldly, unlike anything I had ever seen before. I thought I had died, and she was what awaited me on the other side. It wasn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I opened my eyes on a familiar beach, the beach of Newfoundland. I assumed that the creature had been a dream, something as beautiful as her must’ve been an illusion, but then I jerked my eyes to the water and there she was: radiant as the sun shining behind her.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy grinned, “Mom.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I swore to her that day that I would see her again, but she had simply laughed, diving back into the waters that she had saved me from. I came back to that beach everyday, sat for hours simply looking at the water. Waiting.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy smiled slightly, allowing himself to sink further into his father’s chest. Wilbur stilled for a second, before tightening his arms around Fundy and continuing the story.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “For the first few weeks she didn’t show. She was playing games with me. Occasionally she would leave out seashells for me to find, sometimes it was treasures from the ocean. Yet she herself never graced my presence.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Then the gifts stopped. I thought she had left, that she would never show, but then one week later she finally did. I had shown up on the beach, and there she was, laughing at me from the water.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy could feel the smile on Wilbur’s face, and he felt a small laugh bubble out of his chest.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Then we got to know each other. She was distant at first, I don’t think she trusted me, not completely, but eventually she opened up. I realized that while I had thought she was beautiful before, the outside was nothing compared to the radiance that lied within. She was smart, kind, loving; she was perfect.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Soon, far too soon and yet not soon enough, we learned that in nine months we would be welcoming baby Fundy into the world. At first we were ecstatic! We were going to get married, I was going to invite Techno and Phil, and of course Tommy would show up to be my best man. He’d been around Newfoundland though, I never could seem to let him go…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur’s thought trailed off, but Fundy ignored it, desperately waiting for Wilbur to continue the story.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “It was going to be a family reunion,” He whispered voice catching slightly, “One where we would welcome our newest members.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy frowned, “But that never happened, did it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Your mother got very ill. We thought—we thought that neither of you would make it. But against all odds, she made it to your birth. When the time came, you—you survived, and against all odds so did she!” A few stray tears fell down the revived man’s face as his eyes roamed across the foaming waters, it was as if he was looking for something, searching for a woman that he knew was gone, “The next year and a half was the best of my life.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy raised an eyebrow, before understanding settled in. As a fox hybrid he reached maturity far quicker than regular humans, while his lifespan was the same, he spent more time in maturity than most others.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> So he might have felt 7, but he’d really only gotten to spend one year with his mother. That’s all the time they had had before she died. He longed for more every day.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “We never did end up getting married.” Wilbur said with a soft chuckle, “Phil and Techno destroyed Newfoundland before I could tell them about Sally, so I just decided not to. They didn’t deserve to know about the one that made me happier than anyone else ever could. They didn’t deserve to know about the beautiful child that she had brought into the world.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “So we went away,” Fundy whispered, “That’s why we stayed in the cabin. You were avoiding your family, not your enemies?“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “The words are practically synonymous at this point.” Wilbur spat, “They didn’t mean anything. I had you, Sally, Tommy, and Tubbo too.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki and Eret had been there too, Fundy thought. But he didn’t mention them. He understood Wilbur mentioning Eret, that betrayal still probably hurt him, but Niki had been his best friend, why would he leave her out of the story?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She had been there for Fundy after Wilbur had died, but she had started to slip away. Funny had watched as she broke apart, splitting open, yet still unseen. He’d wanted to help her, but he hadn’t even been able to help himself.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And Eret—well he missed Eret. He'd been avoiding them, but he knew that if he needed him Eret was waiting for him at the castle. But he couldn't face him. It was only a matter of time before he left him too. Everyone always left.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Although his Mom hadn’t done it on purpose.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “That year and a half, away from everything, with the people I loved was the happiest I had ever been.” Wilbur whispered, “But then your mother, then she—the sickness came back, and this time she didn’t—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> His voice cracked slightly at the end, and Fundy snuggled himself closer into his father’s chest. He felt his Wilbur’s body start to shake slightly, and he prepared himself for the sobs that he knew would follow.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He’d never seen his dad get emotional, not truly. He’d seen the candied smiles and the exaggerated growls, he’s seen the pokerface that his father had always been so proficient at portraying.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He might have been the mischievous one, but he’d had to learn it from somewhere.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But this wasn’t the man who had blown up L’manburg, right? He’d come back better, wanting to change, hadn’t he?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> His father’s body shook again, and Fundy squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sobs to echo across the sea, but instead the air was pierced by a symphony of laughter.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur choked out a maniacal laugh, and Funny froze. No. Not again. He should’ve known. How could he have been so stupid to think that even for a minute he would be different? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hated that laugh. He still heard it when he fell asleep.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Guess I’m not exactly what she would call ‘pride worthy’, huh?” He laughed some more, standing up and dusting off imaginary dirt from his jacket. Funny struggled to slip out of Wilbur’s grasp, but he smiled slightly at his father.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He had never told Fundy anything about her, maybe the laugh didn’t mean anything, maybe he could be different. Maybe he could finally be there for him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy gulped, “Thank you for telling me about her. That’s all—that’s what I always wanted to hear.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur threw him a smile, but unlike the calm, nostalgic, friendly look his father had been wearing earlier, now the grin seemed condescending. The man that he had dreamed of existing was gone, replaced by the monster that he knew his father to be.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “She would hate it here.” He mused, “It’s coarse, disgusting, <em>ruined</em>.” He turned towards Fundy, offering a hand up, Fundy eyes it warily before pulling himself to his own feet, ignoring the hand his father had offered him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur simply pulled his hand back with a flourish, as if the dismissal didn’t bother him in the slightest. Then again, it probably didn’t. Wilbur had never cared about him before, why would he ever want to start now?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I want to fix it.” He whispered, eyes sparkling, “I want to fix all of it. I want to create a world that she would be proud of, I want to create a world that you can live in without fear, I want to make it better.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy shook his head. The words sounded pretty, they always did. But he knew that they weren’t real, he knew the words that trailed from his mouth simply acted as a facade, disgusting the true horrors of his plan.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He’d advocated for freedom before, preached about how liberty and justice were the only paths to righteousness…and then to prove his point he’d blown up a country.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy believed he was perfectly justified in not trusting anything his father said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur seemed to sense the apprehension Fundy felt, shaking his head slightly, “I know it sounds crazy, but you can see that this world needs fixing, and I think you know that I can be the one to do it. I think you know that I could fix this wreck of a world, and I want you by my side when we do it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I want you by my side, son.” Wilbur cried, “You, Tommy, Tubbo, Jack, N-Niki, even that Ranboo kid. You all deserve a world free from the blood that stains the land. You should have a world of peace, of contentment, of happiness! Doesn’t that sound perfect?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Yeah. Yeah it does.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> All he had ever wanted was to be by his father’s side. He wanted to say that his approval didn’t matter, that he had enough confidence in himself to be his own person. But that would be a lie, and they both knew it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Some part of him, a rather large part, had only ever wanted to be loved. He wanted his father to wrap him in a hug, and whisper that he was proud of him, tell him that he loved him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But he was never the one who got the love, he was just the stray, the tagalong that people simply ignored.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Funny clenched his teeth, Wilbur hadn’t finished the story. He’d spoken about his mother, about her death, but all Fundy remembered was what had happened after. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> After Sally had died, Tommy and Tubbo had travelled to the Dream SMP to find their own path, but they had begged Wilbur to join them. They had wanted their brother by their side.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur had been in mourning, desperate to throw himself into something. Even if it was a war.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> So he had left.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And dragged Fundy along with him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy hadn’t wanted to go, he’d begged his father to stay in the cabin. Wilbur said it was the happiest he’d ever been, so then why did he leave? Why did he drag Fundy into the hell that was the SMP, could they not have just been happy together?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> That’s all he had ever wanted. Was to be happy with Wilbur, in a world without war.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> That’s all he wants. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur outstretched his hand, “I have some plans to set in motion, a few cards to play if you will, but when the time comes, when my hand is shown, and all cards are on the table, I want you to be on my side. I promise that we will stay together, Fundy, I promise that I will create a world so much better than this hell we all are forced to walk through!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy trembled slightly. This was a lie, it had to be. His father couldn’t fix everything, no one could do that. It was simply impossible. He was just another man trying to play god, another monster trying to disguise themselves as something more than they are.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>But then why did he believe him?</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Why did the words slipping from Wilbur’s mouth fill him with hope? Why did they push out the numbness that he had grown so accustomed to, instead creating a warmth that bubbled in his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> This could be his chance.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I’d like to tell you more about her.” Wilbur whispered, “She truly was remarkable. I could tell you all of the stories about my adventures, and together we could write new ones. I—I am sorry for what I did to you, son, and I want nothing more than to make it right. So please, join me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy’s eyes travelled down to his palm. He should turn away, run back to the castle and spill all of his worries and fears to Eret. They’d understand, they always did. But he couldn't do that. Eret would leave him, he knew it. No one ever stayed, but Wilbur was finally saying he would.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur was saying he’d be there.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Saying he’d care.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> That’s all he had ever wanted.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy's hands shook as he stared up at his father with hopeful eyes, “Okay.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Most of it is gonna be Vilbur pov I promise, but I like Fundy's character a lot, and felt that I had to show his thought process in joining Wilbur. Poor little fox boy.</p>
<p>Also what do we think, is Wilbur being genuine and trying to build bridges? Is he literally trying to manipulate his son? Both?? Who knows?</p>
<p>Anyways, next chapter we'll be back with Wilbur. He's got an underground city to discover.</p>
<p>Also feel free to tell me if you guys like the other POVs. Should I do a Niki pov? Maybe a Techno one? Tommy? Or should I just stick with Vilbur's madness??</p>
<p>Also not entirely important, and will prob be touched on later, but Wilbur left the cabin with Fundy because without Sally it reminded him too much of his past with Phil and Techno and Tommy.</p>
<p>And the reason he dragged Fundy with him to L'manburg instead of just leaving him at the cabin was because he refused to be like Phil.</p>
<p>I mean that's what he told himself...if he wanted to not be like Phil he should've just not gone to L'manburg??? But Wilbur makes bad decisions...so...</p>
<p>Also Fundy is not making a good decision here. Dude, just go be prince Fundy and be Eret's child--what are you doing?</p>
<p>If you liked it kudos and comments are appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Equals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“It’s quite chilly down here,” He commented, watching as Niki froze, “You could use a jacket.”</p>
<p>	He expected her to jump, to cry, to scream, at least to look at him, but instead she simply shook her head, going back to stacking the shelves with miscellaneous readings.</p>
<p>	“Ignoring me?” He asked in mock offense, “Really? I just came back from the dead, and you believe that constructing your own personal library is more important? Honestly, I’m hurt.”</p>
<p>	She took a shuddery breath, “He’s not real, Niki, he’s not real. You know this. He’s not real. It’s all in your head.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was something ironic about having the L’manburg crater covered by glass. While to some it seemed like a memorial, to him it looked as if it was framed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He knew Puffy had done it, to ‘honor the memory’. The memory of what? Of gods tearing apart the only strands of hope children had desperately clung onto? What was there to celebrate about that?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> This crater didn’t deserve to stand here. Bury it if they must, but don’t just leave it. It looked like a warning. A reminder about what could happen. A reminder of what once was.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> L’manburg had been a mess. What had once been beautiful, had been tainted. It had most likely needed to be destroyed. But not by them, not like that. L’manburg had been one of the only lights of hope on this server, why had it been the one to suffer their wrath?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It had been beautiful, peaceful, a sign of hope. It could be like that again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He knew what he had to do to save this world. He hadn’t realized it at first, but seeing it up close, he knew that this world was too broken to stitch back together. There were too many cracks, too many fractures. He couldn’t simply force everyone to hold hands and get along, there was too much division, too much hatred that had been sewn into the fabric.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But L’manburg, even in time of war, had been beautiful. It had been happy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Him, Tommy, Tubbo, Jack, Fundy, and Niki. This had started with them. They were the ones that had gotten everything stolen from them.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy could’ve found peace in wherever they had been, he could’ve found peace but Dream had pulled him back to this world.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He knew he had to save him, save this wretched place. And he wasn't lacking in schemes of plots. But in every scenario, in every plan he played in his mind, he always needed help. And while it might have irked him, he knew he needed people by his side.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He had needed a deck of cards to play with.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A small smile settled onto his face as he strolled through the SMP. He had gotten Fundy on his side, he had protected his son. He hadn't been able to save him last time, but this time he would be there for him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He would do what Phil never could. He would be a good father. He would be there.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Besides, Fundy was an extremely useful addition to his hand.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He was the best spy on the server. He’d always had an affinity for mischief, but the deception and cunning taught to him by Wilbur had seemed to resonate with him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> While Fundy wasn’t a particularly useful card for him at the moment, his trust meant that his son couldn’t be played against him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> However, the true benefit in Fundy was not in the fox himself, but in the ruler he brought along with him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hated them, but Eret was the legal monarch of the Dream SMP. If Fundy could keep them out of his way, plant a few seeds of doubt in their mind, than that would be far more use than needed from him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fundy might have only been a Jack, but he would render a King useless, consequently toppling his opponent’s hand. Of course, Fundy would only be able to stall one singular opponent of the Dream SMP, and there were many other players at the table, many figures wanting to try their hand.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He was playing cards, but there were far too many players at the table for his liking.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hadn’t sized up all of his competition yet. He needed to learn more about exactly who, or potentially what, his enemies are.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But while Quackity was still a wild card, and he didn’t know if the Eggpire wanted to play his game, he did know that eventually Phil and Techno would pose an issue.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They were two of the strongest people on the server, not to mention they had a particular vendetta against him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>They hate you. You know it in your blood, they despise the very particles you are made out of. You want to watch them burn with the world, some part of you will always crave it.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He needed someone to watch Phil and Techno. He needed someone to pierce their bubble, someone that they would care about, someone they would <em>trust</em>. He needed someone to tear them apart from the inside.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He needed someone <em>he</em> trusted for the job, but since there was no one he trusted left, he’d have to settle for the next best thing: someone he knew would succeed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He knew exactly where to go.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Even though he didn’t particularly want to go there.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He had memorized the locations of every major build on the SMP. While he hadn’t been planning on coming back, some small part of him felt a need to know exactly where everything was, exactly where all the pieces on the board were placed, even if he wasn’t there to move them.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> However, looking down the steps that would lead him into the caverns, he realized that the Underground City was a lot more detailed then he’d previously assumed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But then again, Niki Nihachu had always been a particularly skilled builder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> While it was much more impressive, it reminded him of Pogtopia. Maybe if he’d have asked Niki for help, maybe if she’d have come with them first, Pogtopia would’ve looked nicer. Maybe it could’ve actually been a home.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>But she didn’t build it, did she? YOU built Pogtopia, and therefore it was a mess. Why did you even try to build anything? It just turns out even more deformed than the stones you built it from. You know where your real skill lies, just give in and burn it all down.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> His feet were silent against the stone floor as he descended into the hallways. It was beautiful, but also twisted. Metal bars guarded what he assumed to be her bed, chests were piled far too high for her to reach, and there was a multitude of mismatched decorations on the wall.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It looked like a villains’ lair.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He found her stacking books onto newly built library shelves. She had always loved books, hadn’t she? Well, she had loved everything. Niki had always been able to find the beauty in the smallest of things, and it had always been Wilbur’s job to show her the rot that lied beneath.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “It’s quite chilly down here,” He commented, watching as Niki froze, “You could use a jacket.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He expected her to jump, to cry, to scream, at least to look at him, but instead she simply shook her head, going back to stacking the shelves with miscellaneous readings.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Ignoring me?” He asked in mock offense, “Really? I just came back from the dead, and you believe that constructing your own personal library is more important? Honestly, I’m hurt.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She took a shuddery breath, “He’s not real, Niki, he’s not real. You know this. He’s not real. It’s all in your head.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur felt something in his stomach twist. He didn’t care to focus on the pain, on the regret, so instead he turned towards the curiosity that festered in his head.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What do I usually say?” He asked, voice echoing throughout the cavern, “What sort of messages from me does your mind dream up?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki took a deep breath, before turning around to meet his eyes. She looked nothing like the kind, soft baker that he had left. She looked hollowed, as if she was missing something, she looked as if she felt numb.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She looked like him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You look realer this time.” She whispered, voice quavering slightly, “You’ve never looked so real.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A bittersweet smile settled onto his face as he choked out a soft laugh, “Hallucinations can be something I suppose, but I doubt your mind could ever conjure anything quite like the real me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki shivered slightly, and Wilbur was made distinctly aware of the chill in the room. While he was sure the heating system was better than Pogtopias (as they hadn’t had a heating system), there wasn’t anything that could truly get rid of the chill that was present in every cave.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “The jacket thing was a genuine suggestion, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I had a jacket,” She raised a hand to ghost over her shoulders, before her questioning eyes pierced his once again, “It disappeared earlier today.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He smiled slightly, “It wasn’t your jacket to keep.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She shook her head slightly, “No. No, I won’t fall for it this time.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki moved to turn away, but her hand itched by her side. He knew what she was feeling, he could practically see the conflicting wolves fighting within her: the one that desperately wanted him to be fake, and the one that knew he was real.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Quicker than he could process, a loaf of bread was being chucked at his chest. It hit him in the stomach, before bouncing harmlessly to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Well that was a waste.” He muttered, “You always made the best bread.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki raised a hand to her mouth, eyes widening.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You—you’re here? This is real?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur didn’t say anything, instead choosing to watch as her eyes grew distant. She shook her head slightly, disbelief etched onto her features.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She took a small step towards him, feet unsteady on the stone floors. He didn’t know whether to back away or to move closer.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He wanted to talk to her, he wanted more than anything for them to be on the same side, for them to be friends again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But he had to know. He had to know why she did what she did, and he had to make sure she had her priorities straight. It was the only way to help her. The only way to help all of them. He had to be strong.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “So I hear you wanted to kill Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The distant look in Niki’s eyes faded as she seemed to snap back to reality.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Her eyes were lit with something dark and dangerous, but it was only a mere reflection of the fire he knew he had churning within himself.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Yes.” She answered stonily, “I—Tommy was the cause of all the problems on this server.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No, Niki,” Wilbur said with a frown, “Dream was the cause of the problems, Technoblade was the cause of the problems, <em>I</em> was the cause of the problems on this server.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki ducked her head slightly, shaking he head,“But, Tommy—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Niki, look at me. Look at me!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki slowly brought her eyes back to Wilbur, and he wanted more than anything to find the girl that she used to be. He wanted to look in her eyes and find a flicker of the kind girl that had always been there.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But instead he found fire.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He shook his head, “Tommy is the same kid that braided flowers into your hair when you were sad, he is the same kid that was always first in line to try a new sweet you baked, he is the same fucking kid that was like a little brother to you, and I know you know that this isn’t his fault. I know you, and I know you don’t blame Tommy for this—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “It has to be his fault.” She spat, “He has to be the reason this all happened, he has to—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “WHY?!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “BECAUSE IF IT’S NOT TOMMY THAN IT’S YOU!” She cried, throwing her hands into the air, “If Tommy isn't the reason this all happened, then it has to be you. It has to be the man that created L’manburg in the first place, it has to be the man that abandoned this world when it needed him most, and it has to be the man that left me all <em>alone</em>.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears as she peered up at him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She jerked back a step, distancing herself from him. Wilbur reached out a hand to her, before bringing it back to his side.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I truly am sorry, Niki.” He muttered, stepping towards her, “I know—” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “It’s fine,” She muttered, trying to force all emotion from her voice, “It’s fine, Wilbur. I—it’s fine.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Don’t do that, Niki,” he whispered, emotion clawing at his throat, “Don’t let the numbness in.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She raised her eyes to his, “Why not?” She gasped, pain leeching from her words, “Who gives a shit about the baker left to burn? Who cares about the one who always gets left behind? Who would fucking care?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur cocked his head, and for once, he told the truth, “I would.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki started to shake as she shook her head, “Don’t do that, Wil, don’t pretend to care, please, just don’t—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Niki—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I can’t let the feelings in again. If I do, if I open the dam, the waters will drown me,” Her breath quickened, “I tried to kill Tommy. The victim. My little brother in everything but blood. I tried to <em>kill</em> him, Wil,” She took a shuddery breath, “I’m a monster.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Yes she is. And she is so much stronger because of it. She doesn’t have to be a queen, she doesn’t even have to be an ace, she could be another player. She could be your partner.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tears streamed down her cheeks as a violent sob tore from her throat, “I’m a monster, Wil!” I—I wanted him dead. I—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur knelt down and moved to set a hand on Niki’s shoulder, but she jerked away from him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Don’t fucking touch me!” She cried, “Don’t—DON’T!!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur felt his eyes cloud as he refused to move back. He looked at her for a moment, before wrapping his arms around her, trapping her in a hug.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She tore at his arms, trying to force him off of her. But he wouldn’t move. He felt his eyes start to cloud with tears she her punches became lighter and lighter.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Let go of her! Why are you doing this?! Use the emotion!!! Don’t quell it!</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He ignored the voices, burying his head into her shoulder. He wouldn’t leave her. Not again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “GET OFF! GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME! GET—get off! I—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Her yells turned to sobs, and he felt her nails dig into his chest as she gripped him closer. Sobs echoed in the cavern as she buried herself in his chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I’m so sorry, Wil, I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He wanted to tell her that she had no reason to be, that he was the one that should be sorry, that he was the one who hurt her, not the other way around. He wanted to tell her that Tommy understood, that Tommy still loved her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But he couldn’t do that. She had to see him as someone who could help. Someone who could make things right.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He had to help her, even if that meant that he couldn’t break, even if that meant that he couldn’t give into the pain tearing at his chest, he would do it. He would do it for her. He would do it for Fundy. He would do it for Tubbo. He would do it for Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> So instead he simply clutched her tighter, and whispered two simple words.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “It’s okay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They simply stayed like that for a moment, and Wilbur wanted more than anything to protect her from all of this, to shield her from the same world that had broken Tommy, that had torn apart Fundy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But he couldn’t do that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Niki,” He whispered eventually, releasing her from his grip, “I need your help.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She blinked up at him, eyes still filled with tears. Her eyes were red and puffy, and jagged tear lines tore down her cheeks, but he knew she was listening. She always listened to him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What?” She asked simply, eyes locked on him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I am going to change this world. I am going to make it better. I am going to make sure that no one can ever be hurt again, and I am going to make sure that everything goes back to how it once was. Before all of this, before the wars.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki shook her head, a bitter laugh bubbling out of her, “That’s impossible, Wil. We can’t go back, everything’s too broken to be healed. The world—it’s done for.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>She sounds like you, doesn’t she? Come on, we know you hear it too. Let her help you! You can see it, can’t you?</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You have no idea what I have in store, Niki,” A grin broke out across his face, “It’s not over yet.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Still,” Niki choked out, “I can’t help you. I have—what about Puffy? Oh, Puffy. I’ve been avoiding her. All she wanted was to help Tommy and I pushed her away. I need to talk to her, I need to talk to Tommy, I need to talk to <em>Tubbo</em>. Oh, Tubbo—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Niki—“ Wilbur interrupted softly, a stern edge to his voice, “I know you want to save them, I know you do, but trust me, there is only one way to save them. There is only one thing we can do to restore peace in this world, so tell me, Niki, are you willing to help me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki raised her eyes to his, “I don’t—I don’t—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur took a deep breath</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Niki, you tried to kill Tommy.” He whispered, “You burned down the L’mantree.”<br/>Niki shook her head, “I—I had to, Wil, L’manburg was—L’manburg—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Was my home! It was your home!” He cried, “It was a place founded on freedom, on justice.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “They tried to execute Techno—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Who <em>murdered </em>Tubbo.” Wilbur spat, “He stood on that stage, and blew your little brother to bits with a smile on his face.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki gulped, eyes hardening slightly, “I was left in L’manburg—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You were left in <em>Manburg</em>. There is a difference. Think, Niki, think of the walls, of the flowers we planted, of the L’mantree. Think of the old L’manburg and tell me you don’t miss it, not even slightly.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A nostalgic smile slipped onto Niki’s face, and Wilbur knew he would win.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You can't go see Puffy, or Tommy. Do you think they want to see you like this? You hurt them, Niki.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki’s eyes glinted slightly as she peered up at him, and he was reminded of her intelligence. But he shook his head, that didn’t matter right now. If he played his cards correctly he would get her on his side, he needed her on his side.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I didn’t mean—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I know you didn’t, Niki. <em>I </em>know you didn’t. But you have to prove it to <em>them</em>. You have to take down the people who hurt them!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki raised her eyes to him, “Dream, Techno—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Exactly!” Wilbur yelled, “Technoblade is a bad guy. And you are a good guy. It is as simple as that. But you have to help me, Niki, you are the only one who can take him down.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I can?” She murmured. Her eyes seemed to shift slightly, and she looked up at Wilbur with a more grounded expression. It made him uneasy, but it was probably nothing.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Yes, Niki, you can!” Wilbur softened his voice as he set a hand on Niki’s shoulder, “I know he offered you a place on the Syndicate.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki’s eyes widened, as the gears started to whir in her mind.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur stayed silent, allowing Niki time to piece the puzzle together in her mind. He knew she’d figure out his plan, this part of it, at least. Not even she could figure out all of what he had in store.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Our options are still wide open, though. We could burn it down, build it up. Or we could try to bring it back. Oh yes, we can try. It’s dangerous, but we can do it. Oh this will be fun.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You want me to join them,” She said eventually, “You want me to break them from the inside.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur grinned, “Exactly.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki smiled, before a frown overtook her features, “Phil and Techno, they were going to give me a place to stay, they were going to be there for me—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Niki, you know that’s not true,” He ducked his head slightly, “You know what they do.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki sighed, “I really thought they had changed.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur scoffed, “People don’t change. You know what you have to—”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki sighed deeply, causing Wilbur to raise an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Am I boring you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No, I just find it tiresome.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You telling me what I can and cannot do. Trying to twist my mind. I understand it might work with everyone else, but I know you, Wil, and truly, I thought we were past that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>OH. Well, this complicates things slightly. But if anything it only makes it easier. Now you truly need her to join you, otherwise you’ll have to kill her.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He took a step back, “Niki—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She chuckled darkly, “I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. But I guess people really don’t change.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She ran a hand across the unfinished library, eyes lost in a memory.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I’ve looked back on the past, and now I can remember exactly how you planted ideas in everyone’s head, exactly how you twisted their words, manipulated their very emotions all to your own benefit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur said nothing, instead choosing to turn away from Niki.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “So? They needed my help and I gave it to them. It was for their own good.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki chuckled darkly, “<em>I </em>needed your help, but you weren’t there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I know!” He cried, jerking back around towards her, “Don’t you think I know that?! I am doing this so that I can protect everyone! I—I have to fix my mistakes. I have to help them.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I can understand that, but manipulating me won’t help you solve your problems,” She brought her hands back to her sides, peering at Wilbur with a questioning look, “Just be honest with me, Wil, are we doing the right thing?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur took a second.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Liar.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki took a second, and Wilbur could’ve sworn she seemed almost disappointed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Okay then.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “So you’ll do it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki nodded, gritting her teeth, “I will do whatever it takes to protect the people I’ve hurt, the people I care about. If that means joining the Syndicate, if that means helping you, then that’s what I’ll do.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki stopped for a moment, hesitating.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “But about what you said, about fixing your mistakes, I don’t—I don’t think everyone in this world deserves to be saved, Wil.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur shot his head towards her, raising an eyebrow. What was she talking about?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I mean, I think some things have become far too twisted, lost to time. Maybe it would just be best if some things were left in the ashes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur smiled slightly, he could tell her. If there was anyone in this world that would understand what he had to do, understand why it had to be done it was her. This world had chewed her up and spit her out, but unlike Tommy, she held a vengeance for it. The same vengeance Wilbur had.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He was alone in his endeavor. But maybe he didn’t have to be.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Exactly! EXACTLY!</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Hey, Niki?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “If I could change fate, change time, <em>change history, </em>would you join me? If you could save the people that have been broken, protect those that need your help, stop all of this from ever happening, would you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki raised an eyebrow, “Of course.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No matter the cost?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki took a step back, as if she was seeing Wilbur in a new light. He knew she could see behind his mask, she always could. But maybe she didn't care, maybe she saw the monster inside of him and new that the monster was the only one that could save them. Maybe she <em>understood</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki took a deep breath, “Wil, I am doing this because I think that there are people here that deserve to be at peace. I think there are people here that deserve a happy ending, and even if I can’t get mine, I’ll make damn sure they get theirs.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Good.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “However, there are also some people in this world that don’t deserve a happy ending.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur cocked his head, gesturing for her to continue.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She shrugged, “I know you said we were doing the right thing, but—“ She hesitated slightly, “What if—what if for some people, it doesn’t have to be the total right thing?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A surprised look crossed his face, before a small grin appeared on his features.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Niki Nihachu?” Wilbur questioned, mock surprise coating his voice, “Are you suggesting that we—are you suggesting we be the bad guys?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No, no, of course not,” A small smile crossed her face, “Well, not entirely, at least. But you have to be honest with me. If we—if we do this, I want to know exactly what I’m getting into. So tell me, Wil, what is your plan?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He turned back towards Niki and he knew she could see the fires that burned inside of him, the same fires that he saw reflected in her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Tell her. Come on. Be the bad guy! Join her! Destroy this puny little world.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I’m going to burn down what’s left of this place,” Wilbur told her, voice rising, “I’m going to destroy whatever is left of this hellhole, but from it a new paradise will rise.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> For a moment Niki looked horrified, and Wilbur thought he fucked up. He’d played his cards all wrong. Now she would only see him as the villain! How he let himself be so stupid, she hadn’t been ready, he should’ve waited—</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “To allow the flowers to grow,” She whispered, “We must first destroy the weeds that taint the garden.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur cocked his head, a small smile on his face. She understood.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I want you by my side, Niki.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “This isn’t like last time. I will not walk behind you, I won’t be your sidekick. I’ve been in the shadows my entire life, Wil, unheard, looked down on, I refuse to be like that anymore. I want to be heard.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur offered his hand, “Then join me, Niki. Not as a sidekick, not as a damsel in distress, but as my equal. Let’s fix this world. No matter the cost!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki hesitated, and for a moment Wilbur was worried. Maybe Niki wasn’t ready for this, maybe he should’ve just kept her in the dark like everyone else.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But then her eyes steeled and a grin spread across her face, and he knew that she would be by his side.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No matter the cost.” She answered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur grinned, and offered Niki his hand. Niki smiled, grasping his with her own. They were allies, partners, equals.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And for the first time since he’d gotten back, he felt like he had found a true ally.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They would bring this world to its knees, and from the ground, a new hope would rise.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> ——————</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki schooled a frown onto her face as she knocked on the oak door. Two figures greeted her as the door swung open.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Phil. Techno.” She addressed, sounding like the woman scorned they believed her to be. They looked slightly surprised at her arrival, but not at all displeased. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Niki? What're you doin here?” Techno asked, voice bordering on pleasant.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She grit her teeth, “I’d like to join the Syndicate.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Phil and Techno shared a look, before Phil cracked open the door further, welcoming her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Come inside,” He told her, “We have a lot to discuss.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki stepped inside, trying to disguise the small smile on her face.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>cool...so i made Niki kinda evil. surprise! </p>
<p>Also in this, Niki and Tubbo are canonical siblings (maybe half-silbings, have not decided), so that's why it's mentioned.</p>
<p>(also was going to include a line about how Niki kept postponing her wedding because she was waiting for Wilbur to come back and walk her down the aisle...but decided that was too sad. So instead you get it in an note. yay)</p>
<p>(also c!Niki and c!Wilbur are platonic evil besties in this)</p>
<p>Oh hey, also in this, after Phil and Techno left, Niki and Tubbo lived with Wilbur and Tommy and Fundy and Eret for a while. I mentioned it last chapter, but just wanted to put this sit-com of a backstory out there.</p>
<p>So who do we think Wilbur will visit next? Will he even visit anyone? Maybe. Maybe not.</p>
<p>if you liked it kudos and comments are appreciated</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Unwanted Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“So it's true then?” A deep voice asked from behind him, interrupting his thoughts, "You-you're back?”</p>
<p>The warmth running through his veins turning to ice, reality crashing over him like a wave. He froze, and no matter how much he willed it so, he could not take a step forward. Why couldn't he move?</p>
<p>Instead a bitter chuckle escaped his throat. Of course. Nothing can last forever, right? He just thought he'd have a few more moments of bliss before someone came along to ruin it. A few more moments where his mind was filled with only the brightest of dreams.</p>
<p>Of course it was someone that filled his nightmares that came along to ruin it.</p>
<p>"Hello, Eret." He spat, finally working up the strength to turn on his heel and face the SMP’s monarch, "It's been a while.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>guys, remember. canon doesn't exist. it does not exist. n o p e.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It had been a week since he had visited Niki, since they had teamed up. A week since she had been indoctrinated into the Syndicate, a week since they had welcomed her with open arms.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The Syndicate had trusted her immediately. For all of their talk, Techno and Phil had been eager to welcome her. Some might even say that the Blood God and the Angel of Death had been a little bit lonely.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It was adorable.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She’d fit right in. According to her, after their first meeting, the Syndicate had sat her down to tell her that Wilbur was back. They had obviously expected some grand reaction, so Niki had given it to them. She had cried and sobbed and thrown things at the walls. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She had looked shattered, given the Syndicate reason to believe that she needed to be put back together. She had made the Syndicate believe that she needed them.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Her and Wilbur had laughed about it for hours.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But, while the Syndicate did believe her to be weak, they did listen to her. And she had told them nothing but lies.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She’d placated all of their fears about Wilbur, told them that he was simply adjusting to new life, that she had seen him a few times, and that he seemed to simply be lost in a daze. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A few stray tears had slid down her face as she had recounted the revival of her best friend. The Syndicate had pitied her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But they had also believed her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur knew they would.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They had been desperate for someone else to trust, desperate to find a little replacement for their fractured family. And Niki had never been one for deception, she’d always been honorable, moral, kind. So when she had told him that Wilbur was simply lost in a fog, still trying to adjust to life.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They had believed her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It helped that they had so desperately wanted it to be true. He could practically see the look on Phil’s face, relief soaked into his eyes and he learned that his son might not have meant what he said.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>He was so surprised, </em>Niki had whispered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em> He wasn’t thinking straight, </em>she had murmured with a frown.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em> I’m sure he didn’t mean it, </em>she had consoled.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They never saw the sly grin behind her sorrow facade. They weren’t searching for the embers that were so apparent for Wilbur, so they took her for what she claimed to be: broken, glass that had finally shattered, a girl that had been chipped away at for so long that she had become unrecognizable.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And maybe she was. Maybe she was different than she had been. But she wasn’t shattered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She had an elastic heart, and while she might have broken, and she might have shattered, she had sewn herself back together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And the Syndicate simply didn’t see that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hadn’t seen it for a long time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But he would never make that mistake again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki’s help in getting the Syndicate off his tail was insurmountable, she was an asset that he never knew he had. She was someone that he was actually able to trust, someone who understood.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> This past week had only revealed further that they had the same goals, the same vision for what this server could become. They had spent hours upon hours talking about potential schemes and plans, drawn up maps and sketches, some necessary, others simply dreams that they might never achieve.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But they had drawn them all, they had looked at this world, and while they might not have figured out all of what they needed to change, how to fill every unique crack and crevice that marred this world, they knew where to start.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They knew exactly where to start.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They were going to kill Dream.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Then they would take care of Phil and Techno.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And then they would be finally free to mould this server in their image. The dreams that they had thrown onto paper could potentially be woven into their very reality. They could finally have peace.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They could be happy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But sadly, Wilbur knew that even if Dream was dead, and even if Phil and Techno were out of the picture, sometimes dreams were simply nothing more than imaginary. He had to be prepared for the scenario where the world was to unbalanced to be built on.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He had to prepare for the scenario where he would have to tear it down</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> If worse came to worse, he’d tear this world down brick by brick. He would watch as flames consumed every leaf, he would stare as this world crumbled in on itself, and once it was broken he would smile. Because only after it was fractured completely could it finally be reborn.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But that was simply the contingency plan.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> However, they needed to be just as prepared for plan B than plan A, and as they already knew how they were going to get rid of Dream, they had to make sure that the…final option was ready.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> So he had gone to one man that he knew had mountains of TNT. A man he knew would give it to him without complaint: Sam.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Of course he had refused at first. He had been terrified of Wilbur asking him for it, appalled at what he might do. But Wilbur could always pinpoint someone’s weakness, someone’s greatest failure, their worst insecurity, and Sam’s was glaringly obvious.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>You were the one that left Tommy in the prison, Sam.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em> You can’t protect him anymore.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em> You’re not strong enough.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em> You could never do what has to be done.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em> But I can! We both know that I can.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He had practically forced the TNT into Wilbur’s hands.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Not this time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> If he did, it wouldn’t just be a country he was destroying…it would be everything.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He wasn’t like Phil or Techno, he didn’t believe government were the root of all evil, he believed that government gave power to the powerless, he believed that L’manburg had given the weak a chance against the strong. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But when L’manburg had been destroyed, it hadn't been <em>his </em>L'manburg<em>, </em>it had been Manburg. It had been poisoned beyond comprehension, it had needed to be demolished.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hoped this world was different.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hoped, more than anything, that he could save it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> His feet treaded lightly on the Prime Path as he headed back to the Underground City. There really was a beauty in the way the sun reflected off of the glass of the towers next to him , there was a beauty in the way the path creaked slightly, memories treaded into the wood, he supposed there was a certain beauty to <em>life</em>. It was vibrant, exhilarating, but it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t whole.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But it could be.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He would build it back up again, even if it meant he had to tear it down first. It would be whole again. He would make sure of it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The TNT was a simply a contingency plan. Nothing more. It was something they could rely on if people proved difficult to defeat, or if…well, he wanted a better world for Tommy. And this world had done nothing for him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>It deserves to burn! We all know it does! You can't think of any good thing this SMP has done for you. It has suffocated you, drawn the life from your insides and poisoned your mind. It needs to be destroyed.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He shook his head. Once he dropped the rest of this TNT off with Niki, he wouldn’t have to think about any of this for a while, instead he could focus on killing Dream. That’s what Tommy wanted, wasn’t it?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The whole point of keeping that green bastard alive had been to revive <em>him</em>. And he was back. There was no longer a reason to keep him alive. Oh this was going to be fun.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He grinned. Every day they were getting one step closer to their goals, and there was simply something so intoxicating about it! They had been best friends once, some part of him hoped they could have that again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was potential for a better server, for a better world, and it was so close. So very close. He was so lost in his own mind that he didn’t even notice that he was not alone on the Prime Path.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “So it's true then?” A deep voice asked from behind him, interrupting his thoughts, "You-you're back?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The warmth running through his veins turning to ice, reality crashing over him like a wave. He froze, and no matter how much he willed it so, he could not take a step forward. Why couldn't he move?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Instead a bitter chuckle escaped his throat. Of course. Nothing can last forever, right? He just thought he'd have a few more moments of bliss before someone came along to ruin it. A few more moments where his mind was filled with only the brightest of dreams.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Of course it was someone that filled his nightmares that came along to ruin it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> "Hello, Eret." He spat, finally working up the strength to turn on his heel and face the SMP’s monarch, "It's been a while.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret simply shook their head, sunglasses reflecting the morning light. There was shock and pain written across her features, as if they believed this was simply a nightmare, as if a single pinch could wake them.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I can’t believe it,” Eret whispered, voice catching slightly, he shook his head, “You’re back? You’re actually back?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur raised a single eyebrow, “Astute observation.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be talking to them. He wanted to go back to the Underground City and pretend like they didn’t exist, pretend like the betrayal didn’t exist. He could deal with them later. <em>Later.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret ran a hand through her hair, “I just mean that this is shocking, I—I didn’t know if it was true.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur opened his mouth to ask something, but Eret beat him to it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No. Fundy didn’t tell me,” Eret said calmly, but there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. A hint of bitterness that made Wilbur grin internally. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>He is my son, after all. Not yours. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “How did you know, then?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret threw him a half smile as she pulled down her sunglasses slightly. The white abysses that masqueraded as her eyes shone over the tips of her shades, and Wilbur had to resist a shudder.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He’d always hated those eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Well, not always.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> There was a time where he had thought of them as the eyes of a friend.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But now whenever he saw them he simply thought of the blackstone, and the button, and the the Dream Team, and the screaming, and then the noise became inescapable, and it was as if he was drowning, the world having been—</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Ranboo told me.” She said simply.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Oh.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She pulled the sunglasses back up over her eyes, chuckling softly, “He’s never been the best with secrets.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur scoffed, “Yeah. I get that now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> His eyes hardened as he took in the figure in front of him, “So what do you want?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret simply cocked his head slightly, “Is that what you think? You really think that I want something from you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Well-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Wilbur, I’m just happy you’re alive!” Eret cried, a laugh bubbling in his throat, “I spent so many hours, days, maybe even weeks pouring over resurrection textbooks, and none of it—none of it ever worked. I though, well, I thought that you were gone for good.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “But you’re back!” She laughed lightly, relief washing over her face, “You’re back.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur shook his head. This wasn’t right. Eret hated him. Eret wanted him to stay dead. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right at all.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No.” Wilbur whispered, “No, no, no, this isn’t right. I know this isn’t right.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What do you—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You betrayed L’manburg, you betrayed us, you betrayed <em>me</em>! This is a trick, some sort of trick, I know it is, it has to be. I—I know it is.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret frowned, “Wilbur, that was a long time ago. I regret my actions more than you could ever imagine, if I could do it all again, if I could undo—if I could undo it, you know that I would never lead you guys into that room.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I’ve heard many lies before, Eret.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Then you must know that this isn’t one of them.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The two of them stood there for a moment, separated by the betrayals that wracked Wilbur to his core.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He hadn’t thought about Eret since he’d gotten back. He’d learned to disconnect them from his mind, force their presence away from him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He didn't need to remember them. He didn’t want to.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I don’t forgive you,” Wilbur whispered eventually.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I under—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “But Tommy does.” Wilbur continued, shaking his head slightly, “You betrayed him, forced him into pressing that fucking button, and yet he forgives you.” He laughed bitterly, “<em>Why?”</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret smiled slightly, “He forgives me? He—he really does? After all of this, after everything—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “But how did you fix it?!” Wilbur repeated, voice raising slightly, “How do you fix something so heartbreaking and demoralizing, how do you—how did you fix it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret cocked his head, realization appearing his face, “Oh, Wilbur, Tommy loves you. Fundy loves you. You know that they care about you—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur shook his head, laughing sadly, “Tommy hasn’t talked to me in a week, Eret.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret chuckled, “He didn’t talk to me for months. And he loves you a lot more than me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “But how did you fix it?” Wilbur repeated, stressing every word.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret shrugged, “I don’t think I fixed anything. Not truly. All I could do was try. And while it might never be enough, at least I did something.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur nodded, “Just do something, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret smiled, nodding, “I am happy you’re back, Wil. And I—I’m so sorry. For everything.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret meant it. Wilbur knew she did. She meant every apology, the remorse they felt was genuine and real. But was he truly sorry? Did Wilbur regret what he’d done?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>You regret hurting Tommy. You will always regret hurting him. You regret leaving your son in this fucked up world. You might even regret not forgiving the person in front of you. You have a lot of regrets. Maybe it’s about time you let them know that.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Who knew the voice could be helpful? But he couldn’t—he couldn’t forgive Eret. It hurt too much, he just couldn’t reopen that wound.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I know.” Wilbur whispered, “I know you’re sorry, Eret. But that doesn’t mean I have to forgive you yet.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh I know, I—“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “But I might,” Wilbur interrupted, “One day.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The words surprised even him. He usually thought about every word he said, evaluated how the simplest tone change could change the meaning of an entire conversation.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But this time he didn’t even register the words that came out of his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret nodded, “You don’t have to. Forgive me, I mean. I wouldn’t forgive me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur chuckled, “Didn’t I tell you that I was experienced with lies.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You might never forgive yourself,” Wilbur said with an eye roll, “But if it were anyone else in your position, you’d forgive them in a heartbeat. It’s simply the way your built.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret stilled for a moment, a mixture of emotions that Wilbur could never begin to understand crossing her face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But then she simply smiled.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur smirked slightly, “It wasn’t a complement.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Yeah. It was,” Eret snipped back, a grin settling on his face. Wilbur, for some inexplicable reason wanted to grin back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They had been friends once, a long time ago. They had been great friends. Eret had been there when he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing with Fundy, she had been there when he’d first started L’manburg.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But when he had needed her to be there most, they turned their back on him. They say that it’s always the first time that hurts the most. First death, first loss, first <em>betrayal</em>. Wilbur knew it was true.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He’d been hurt so many times by people a lot worse than Eret.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But it was hard to forget the day where everything changed, and it was hard to forget the betrayal that set it in motion.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “They need you, Wilbur.” Eret murmured, “Tommy, Tubbo, Fundy. I think they need you—they need you to be there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur nodded. <em>No they don’t. Yes they do. Do they?</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em> Yeah. They do.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He simply nodded, turning away from Eret.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He stopped after a few steps, ducking his chin over his shoulder, “This conversation isn’t over,” He whispered, “Not yet.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Eret nodded, “I know. But it’s something. And, like I said, that’s all I need.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur smiled slightly, turning back around.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Huh. Maybe this world had some hope left after all.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> ————————————————</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He arrived at the Underground City to find Niki furiously scribbling something in her journal. Her hair was sprayed in front of her face, eyes locked in concentration on whatever she was doing.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He strolled right up behind her, leaning over her shoulder to peer at the journal, “Am I interrupting something?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki sprung up out of her chair, nearly causing it to topple backwards. Luckily she caught herself just in time, haphazardly readjusting her hair and pushing it out of her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> At Wilbur’s chuckle she simply grimaced.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Laugh all you want.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh, I plan to.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I was concentrated!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “That was never in question,” He peered over her shoulder again at the journal she was scribbling in, “What are you writing?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki shrugged, tossing Wilbur the leather bound journal over he shoulder, “A book report.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur scanned the pages, a disbelieving laugh echoing out of his throat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “<em>The Art of War</em>?” He laughed, “Techno gave you <em>assigned reading</em>?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki smirked, standing up out of the chair and leaning back on the desk, facing Wilbur, “He finds it important that we <em>know our enemy</em>, recognize who the true opponent is.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur chuckled, “Well, Technoblade has proven himself to be a master at deciphering who the true enemy is.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Mhm.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Not like he has a spy in his little <em>book club</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh, how could you even suggest such a thing?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I know,” Wilbur gasped mockingly, “It was bold. Even for me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki chuckled lightly, and it was like a chorus of bells filled the room. Her laugh was something that he had forgotten. He had forgotten so many things about this world, about <em>life</em>. Some part of him <em>had </em>missed it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He shook his head, that wasn’t important now, though.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He took the TNT out of his inventory, throwing the explosives at Niki.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I got it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Sam just handed it over?” She whispered, hands raking across the explosives.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur shrugged, “I simply reminded him that he let Tommy die in the prison, he was the one who had failed. I provided a potential ally, someone who had the strength to protect Tommy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki smiled slightly, bringing out her enderchest and stuffing the TNT into it. He’d put most of the TNT into his own enderchest when he’d gotten it, but he’d wanted Niki to have half of it as well. They were equals. Partners. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “So what’s next?” Niki asked, raising herself to sit on the desk, her feet dangling off of the table as she looked at Wilbur expectantly, “Do we plant the TNT, or are we—are we killing him today?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Kill</em>. It was such an odd word. He’d been killed, he’d experienced death. Killed made it sound as if you forced into a place of horror, of agony. But it was simply nothing.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Complete and total nothingness.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Although Dream probably wouldn’t get nothingness.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He’d most likely get some place a lot worse.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But they couldn’t kill Dream. Not yet. Of course they had a plan, and they both knew it would work. They were a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. They had spent days on this plan, meticulously planned out every single detail.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But the whole point of killing Dream, the whole point of everything they were doing was to create a better world. It was to make a state of freedom, one that wouldn’t be forced to succumb to the fist of tyranny.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He wanted a world with forgiveness. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur frowned, “No. We're not doing anything like that today.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki cocked her head, “No?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Then what are we doing?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur sighed as he looked at Niki, tilting his head slightly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I think you should go see Tommy.” <em>I think I should go see Tommy.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki stilled as a silence fell over the room. The chill in the room seemed to grow, and he could feel Niki’s mind racing as she desperately tried to search for a response.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Wil, I—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Niki,” Wilbur said simply, “You tried to kill him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki shook her head, “I don’t know if I should, what if he finds out that I—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “<em>He knows</em>, Niki,” Wilbur whispered, “He knows about the nuke, he knows about you and Jack, <em>he knows</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki’s eyes widened as she raised a hand to cover her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I want Dream dead, I want Techno and Phil out of the way, and I want a world with peace and freedom. But the people who live in this world cannot be at each other’s throats. If left unattended, even the smallest wounds can cause someone to bleed out.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “He’ll hate me.” She choked out, eyes locked on he clasped hands in her lap, “I would hate me. Hell, I think Tubbo, my own brother, hates me. I just—I don’t know how to fix it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “<em>I don’t think I fixed anything. Not truly. All I could do was try. And while it might never be enough, at least it’s something.”</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I think the only way to start is to talk to him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki was about to say something, but Wilbur interrupted her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Please, Niki, I—I can’t do this alone.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki stopped, frowning slightly, “This isn’t about Tommy forgiving <em>me</em>, is it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur didn’t say anything.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> If she decided she didn’t want to see Tommy he wouldn’t force her to, he didn’t have that right. But if she did want to see him, he would be grateful. He knew this was something that he ultimately had to do, but Niki did owe Tommy an apology as well.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Maybe they could do it together.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur had only seen Tommy a handful of times since he’d gotten back. He’d tried to talk to him, to explain anything, to try and clear the air. But Tommy hadn’t wanted to talk. And Wilbur hadn’t forced him to.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Tommy had needed time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And Wilbur had understood.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But it had been a week.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And Wilbur was worried.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He’d seen what happened when you were left on your own, your own mind being your only source of company. He knew how persuasive the whispers were, how easily you could get lost in your own head.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He knew that it was a maze so easy to get trapped in, he knew that it was almost impossible to escape.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> There was a thin line between healing and getting worse.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur was going to make sure Tommy didn’t cross it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He had to make sure that—he had to make sure that Tommy knew he had someone. That he wasn’t alone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He needed Tommy to know that he would never be alone again, that Wilbur was sorry for everything that had happened.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Okay.” Niki whispered eventually, “Let’s—let’s go see him. I think we should.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur smiled slightly, but Niki shook her head, letting out a harsh breath of air.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What do I even say, Wil? ‘Hey, sorry that I tried to kill you with a nuke because I was mad at your brother and you reminded me too much of him’? I just—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur set a comforting hand on her shoulder, stopping her onslaught of words, “We just need to do something. We just have to try.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Niki took a deep breath, before determination fell across her features. She nodded once, “I want to make things right.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur threw her a half smile, “So do I.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She hopped off of the desk, grabbing the coat that was sitting on the end. It was Wilbur’s coat, but he had given it back to her. It was technically his, sure, but it fit her better nowadays.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Their steps echoed across the floors as they climbed the stairs of the Underground City. Neither of them particularly wanted to do this, but at the same time they couldn’t imagine not doing it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It was odd.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Neither of them had felt nerves in their stomachs when they were planning out their strategy. He hadn’t felt any worry when he had stolen the prison schematics, or when they had laughed over the lies Niki spewed to the Syndicate. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They weren’t scared of what they would do to the world.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But they were terrified of what they had done to Tommyinnit.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not canon in the slightest. But I want a Niki and Wilbur villain story where they still try to make things right, so that's what I'm doing. HA! You can't stop me.</p>
<p>Wilbur and Eret will meet again. Their conversation is not over. </p>
<p>ANYWAYS, what'd you guys think of this chapter? Hell, what are you guys thinking about canon right now? Feel free to rant about the revival in the comments. I am so very happy but also so very terrified. I know it's gonna be great, but I am so scared. so very scared.</p>
<p>As always, if you liked it, kudos and comments are very appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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